Not All Family Is Blood
by The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien
Summary: On a job in Washington, DC Sam and Dean meet a family of hunters and find out more about their own family and Sam's return from Hell. X-over with NCIS
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Since my first foray into the 'Supernatural' fanfic world went over well, I thought I'd try my hand a a multichapter crossover story. And just for fun, I tried to do the little recap they do for the actual show.

STORY SUMMARY: While on a job in DC, Dean finds out more about his family and why Sam's back from Hell.

* * *

SUPERNATURAL: Not All Family Is Blood

(NCIS crossover)

* * *

_**THEN**_

_Dean: "How long have you been back, Sam?"_

_Sam: "About a year."_

_x_

_(Dean holds out the keys to the Impala.)_

_Dean: "She should be hunting. Take her."_

_Sam: "Thanks. Really. But I already got my car set up the way I like it."_

_x_

_Lisa: "I need you to go."_

_Dean: "You're saying 'hit the road'."_

_Lisa: "If there's some rule that says this all has to be either/or… how about we break __it?"_

* * *

_**NOW**_

Stella Monroe wasn't technically a hunter but she knew enough to know something was wrong with the man who'd just walked into her mother's diner. Way too stiff, way too formal…

Everything about him seemed to scream 'federal agent'.

That was just the first thing that made Stella uneasy.

What made her every instinct go on full alert was the lights flickering. Stella watched as the man ordered a large black decaf, pay, and leave without another word. Finishing her own breakfast, she got up quickly and threw a few bills down onto the table before heading outside, only to find that the potential demon was gone.

Sighing, Stella headed across the street to the auto shop she worked at with her younger sister and her uncle.

* * *

_NCIS Headquarters_

After the first tiny sip to see how hot the coffee was, NCIS Director Leon Vance hissed in pain and tossed the whole cup in the trash. Apparently the family of hunters who ran the place were making sure to only use holy water to weed out demons. Vance would have to find a new coffee place now.

It was a shame. The Monroe Family Diner made some of the best coffee he'd ever had. But as Vance stared at the coffee cup in his trashcan, his eyes went completely black. Quality of his morning caffeine was the least of his problems. Right now he had to deal with a family of hunters knowing what he was.

* * *

Sitting in the passenger seat of the '67 Impala felt familiar and strange at the same time Sam Winchester thought as he and Dean headed down the road towards Washington, DC. So far the two had taken a few 'light' hunting jobs just to help ease Dean back into things after his year long hiatus. But now they were heading to DC to track down a demon that their grandfather, Samuel Campbell, had reported might know something about Sam's return from Hell and Samuel's return from Heaven.

Sam and Dean hadn't spoken for a while when Sam finally asked, "You okay, Dean?"

"Well, let's see," Dean replied, not looking at his younger brother. He'd stopped calling Sam his 'little' brother ever since Sam had sprouted three inches higher than Dean when he was 15. "Uh, I went a year thinking that my brother was dead. Then twice I almost died from djinn poison. My girlfriend said I'm better off hunting than brooding at home and my grandfather's back from the dead. Oh, yeah. I'm doing just freakin' peachy, Sammy."

"Okay," Sam sighed. "I guess I walked right into that one." Looking over at Dean, he added, "I know you called Lisa and Ben last night. I just wanted to know if—"

"How about this?" Dean suggested, a bit of a snap in his voice. "Lisa and Ben are my personal life. Hunting is my professional life. I don't talk personal stuff at work, okay?"

"Fair enough," Sam muttered, wondering when this tension between them would start to let up. Looking over that the Impala's fuel gage, he said, "Gonna need to stop soon."

Dean nodded and looked at the road sign coming up. "Nearest gas station is 15 miles." Looking down at the gage, he said, "Cutting it close."

Spotting a highway exit sign, Sam pointed and said, "Turn off here, man." Catching Dean's look, Sam smiled. "Trust me. I know a place."

Dean shrugged and made for the exit, following the road until he came to a fill-up joint. As he got out, he stopped as a car in the auto shop across the street caught his eye. Tossing Sam the key, he said, "I'll be right back, Sam."

Sam watched Dean walking away and smiled before turning back to fill up the gas tank.

x

The car was a blue '66 Ford Mustang and Dean grinned as he walked around, admiring the car. He'd just reached out a hand to touch the hood when a voice came from the floor.

"Touch the car and you'll be pulling back a bloody stump."

Dean jumped back as he looked down, seeing a young woman looking at him from beneath the car. "Sorry. I was just admiring," he said, watching the woman slide out and stand up.

"No one's allowed to touch my baby without permission," the woman said, narrowing her eyes at Dean. "Sorry."

"I understand," Dean replied with a nod. After making a show of putting his hands in his pockets, he walked around the car, taking in all the features. And giving the car's owner a once-over at the same time. "I've got a '67 Impala. Even rebuilt her after a car crash. Wouldn't let anyone else work on her till she was good as new."

At first the woman's gaze had been scrutinizing but at the mention of Dean's car, her gaze softened and she looked across the street. "You're Sam's brother," she deduced.

Dean smiled and held out a hand. "Dean."

The woman smiled as well and wiper her hand off on her jeans as she replied, "Stella." She was about to say something else when a yellow and black Dodge Charger pulled into the repair bay and stopped. Stella shrugged at Dean and replied, "Duty calls."

Dean waited while Stella talked with the older man who'd been driving the Charger. After a few minutes, though, Stella beckoned Dean over.

"Dean, this Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," Stella said, making introductions. "Agent Gibbs, this is Dean Winchester."

"Winchester?" Gibbs asked, studying Dean. "You're not related to John Winchester, are you?"

Dean frowned a bit as he met Gibbs' gaze. "My dad. You knew him?"

Gibbs nodded, thinking back to when he remembered showing John pictures of Kelly as a newborn and John showing him pictures of his son, Dean. Holding out a hand, Gibbs said, "Nice to meet you."

"You, too, sir," Dean replied, shaking Gibbs' hand. "So…"

Seeing that Dean wanted to know what was going on, Stella spoke up. "Dean, Gibbs thinks his director is… evil."

"As in…?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. When Stella nodded, he just nodded in return. "Right."

x

After promising to meet Gibbs later at NCIS, Dean and Stella met up with Sam and went to the diner kitty-corner to the gas station and ordered burgers while Stella gave Dean a rundown of her background. "Dad's a hunter," she said, after taking a sip of her soda. "So are my two oldest brothers. My little brother is at college studying art. My sister works the books at the auto shop. My uncle and I do the actual work on the cars. And my mom runs this diner."

"So how do you two know each other?" Dean asked, looking from Stella to Sam.

"Sam is hopeless with car problems," Stella explained. "He was in town and he called Bobby Singer for a recommendation."

"So you're not a hunter," Dean said in a tone that made it clear that it wasn't a question.

"Well, I know my way around the territory," Stella replied, shrugging. "But I'm not a full time hunter, no."

"So how'd you know Sam was a hunter?" Dean wanted to know. It wasn't as if he didn't trust Stella. Actually, he trusted her more than he trusted his grandfather right now.

"When he dropped Bobby's name," Stella explained as her mother, Rosanne, brought out the burgers and fries. "I figured it was a safe bet."

"So what about this demon you were talking about?" Sam asked, starting to chow down on his own burger. Looking at Stella and then Dean he added, "Think it could be the one Samuel told us about?"

"Dad's coming back tonight," Stella supplied. "You can ask him then if you want."

"Sounds good," Dean replied. "Know a motel where we can stay for a few days?"

Stella smirked as she leaned back in the booth. "I think I can do a little better than that."


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTES: In writing fan fiction I've found that some characters are easy to write and others are harder. With this story… I'm honestly not sure how to classify the 'Supernatural' character Castiel. It kinda goes both ways I guess.

Hope ya'll enjoy!

Chapter 2

* * *

Driving down the road towards the address Stella had given them, Sam kept glancing over at Dean who was determinedly not looking at Sam. After a while, the quiet and lack of music started getting to Sam and he said, "You and Stella seemed to get along pretty well."

"How long have you known her, Sam?" Dean asked, still just looking straight ahead as he drove.

"A while," Sam answered, vaguely.

Finally looking over at his brother, Dean asked again. "How long, Sam? Since you came back from the cage?"

After a long moment, Sam sighed and replied, "After you went to Hell."

Dean pulled off the road sharply and stopped the car, turning to look at Sam. "Start talking," he said, snapping.

Sam shrugged and after a few moments of Dean's hard stare, he said, "I was in town and I was having problems with the Impala. I called Bobby, hoping he'd be able to recommend someplace… He said to take it to Stella."

"So you were sleeping with her _and_ Ruby at the same time?" Dean asked, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Stella and I have only been together for about 6 months," Sam replied, hoping Dean would drop the subject. "She's a good person, Dean."

"Oh, like Ruby was a good person for being a demon?" Dean snapped, getting irritated again.

"It's not like that," Sam insisted. He thought for a while of how to explain and finally just settled on the truth. "Stella _was_ a hunter. But she quit when her little brother was killed by demons."

His mind running back to the diner, Dean frowned and asked, "Wait, what? She said her youngest brother was in college."

"He is," Sam confirmed. "Stella's father found him lying in the backyard of their house around the same time I came back."

"And the same time Samuel and the cousins popped up," Dean added, thoughtfully.

"And we're not the only ones," Sam went on, seeing that Dean wasn't going to bite his head off. Digging into his bag and pulling out a thick file, Sam said, "Three other families have had people coming back from the dead. The only thing tying them all together… all the family members were hunters."

"Someone… or some_thing_ is resurrecting hunters," Dean said, thinking. "Why?"

"No idea," Sam replied as Dean pulled back onto the road.

* * *

In the basement of her old house, Kelly Gibbs felt like a stranger in her own life. Two years ago she'd been killed by a demon and about a year after her death she'd found herself lying on the floor of the basement very much alive.

The basement was full of memories. Kelly could remember helping her father build the boat that used to take up the entire floor… Then when she was 18 her mother had been violently killed by what Kelly learned later on was a demon.

Since then, Kelly had become a hunter and she'd been a very good one. But standing here, in her old house and _alive_ she wondered now about her future. It would be so easy to slip back into the life of a hunter and obviously she was needed since she'd heard reports that other hunters who had been killed were back.

Hearing the steps creak, she whirled around, pulling out her 9mm Berretta and aiming it at— "Dad," she said with a sigh of relief as she lowered her weapon. "Sorry," she added, somewhat breathlessly. "Habit."

"Don't apologize," Gibbs said, quietly as he pulled over a barstool and a sawhorse. "It's a good habit." He took the stool and Kelly sat on the sawhorse and waited until her father spoke again. "How are you feeling, Kelly?"

"Okay," Kelly shrugged, brushing her hair away from her face.

Gibbs studied his little girl for a moment. She'd seen more fights and battles than most Marines and somehow she still managed to make him think of that small little girl Shannon had brought home from the hospital all those years ago. "Kelly, it's me. Talk to me about what's going on."

"I don't know, Dad," Kelly admitted as she stood, running a hand through her short, red hair. "I haven't… I haven't been…"

Gibbs nodded and went on. "Vance is a demon."

"Yeah, I, uh… I guessed," Kelly replied, vaguely. Seeing her father's look, she sighed. "I didn't want to just go ahead and kill him in case I was wrong. Besides, barging into the guy's office and shooting him full of rock salt would probably have created a fuss."

"You know anything about this guy, Winchester?" Gibbs asked, curious about the hunter he'd met earlier that day.

Kelly stopped and took a deep breath before nodding. "Dean Winchester has been out for a year but he's probably still pretty sharp. His brother Sam is… like me."

Gibbs stood as well and waited until Kelly stopped pacing and looked at him. "Sam was dead?"

Kelly nodded. "Dead and in Hell. Literally. But… what I've been hearing is… Something pulled him out. Same thing that pulled me back."

Gibbs took that in but even after almost 8 years he still couldn't completely wrap his head around all this supernatural stuff. Looking at Kelly and thinking of the year he'd spent without her, there were so many questions he wanted to ask: Had she been watching over him? Had she reunited with Shannon? But instead Gibbs just took a step closer and pulled Kelly into a hug and said, "I'm glad you're back."

"I'm glad I'm back, too, Dad," Kelly said, so happy to be able to hug her father again.

* * *

When Dean parked the Impala in the driveway of a very palatial lodge-style house, he looked over at Sam and raised an eyebrow. "A _little _better than a motel?" nodding towards the house he added, "Seriously?"

"Stella's family comes from money," Sam replied with a shrug as he got out of the car and grabbed his bag out of the backseat.

Dean wasn't sure what to make of all this as he'd never seen hunters who were so obviously financially loaded but deciding to go along with it for now, although he made sure he had his gun safely tucked away before he followed Sam into the house. Letting out an impressed whistle as he looked around, he said, "Very nice."

"Wait till you see the armory," Sam replied, heading for the basement door.

"Armory?" Dean asked, both eyebrows going up. "They have an armory?" But as he followed Sam down to the basement, he asked, "So Stella gave you a key to the house? Just how close are the two of you?"

Sam didn't reply as he went to the light switch on the wall and flicked it on.

Dean looked around at the handguns, automatic weapons, rifles—including a Winchester 1897 12 gauge. "Oh, man," he said, eyes widening in admiration as he went over and took a closer look at the shotgun. "Sam, did you see this?" Dean exclaimed, in awe of the weapon.

"Come on," Sam replied, nodding. Once he'd pulled Dean away from the shotgun and back upstairs, he looked out the front window just as an old pickup truck came up the driveway. Sam headed outside and smiled at the three men who got out of the truck.

"Sam," the older man said with a nod. "Nice of ya to stop by and visit."

Sam grinned and shook the hands of all three guys, exchanging greeting before looking over at Dean who looked more than a little annoyed that he was being left out. "Guys, this is my brother, Dean. Dean, this is Stella's father."

The older man took a few steps toward Dean and held out a hand. "Call me Jack." Shaking Dean's hand, he added, "Nice to meet you, Dean."

"And the other two are Stella's brothers, Kyle and Jeff," Sam went on pointing to the two younger guys.

After the introductions, Jack asked, "So what brings you boys out this way?"

"Hunting," Dean said, simply, eyeing Jack.

"I figured that," Jack replied, leading the group inside. "I meant what are hunting?" Looking over at Sam and giving him a pointed look, he added, "Or is this a social visit?"

"We're after a demon that might know something about the hunters who have come back from the dead," Sam replied, purposely not looking at Dean. "Stella said that we could stay here."

Jack gave Sam a shrewd look and finally nodded. "You can dump your stuff in the fourth floor bedroom."

"Thanks," Sam replied as he and Dean grabbed their things and headed up the stairs. Once in the topmost room, Dean dumped his bag on one of the two twin beds and turned to Sam.

"So what's with the share sessions?" Dean asked after closing the door. "Working with Samuel—yeah, I can get that. The cousins—sure, they're technically blood. But why does it suddenly seem like you know every hunter in the country personally?"

Sam dropped his stuff on the floor and sat down on the bed. "Dean, things are going on that _no one_ understands. Demons no one has ever seen before, people coming back from the dead with no explanation. And when I started to see what was happening I realized something."

"Oh, and what was that?" Dean asked with a snap in his tone as he crossed his arms and leaned against the bedroom door.

Sam looked up at Dean and replied, "Dean, if we hadn't been so closed off about trusting other hunters maybe we could have stopped a lot of what we went through."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, not quite sure if he was hearing his brother right.

Sam shrugged and stood up. "I'm saying that every hunter is a resource. For weapons, food, shelter, info. And we never took advantage of it. If we had, maybe we could have found another way to save you from Hell other than Ruby. Maybe we could have kept the seals from breaking."

Dean rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, maybe you're right, Sam," admitted, begrudgingly. With a long sigh he walked over to his bed and sat down while Sam wandered over towards the door. "Maybe we should have asked for help. I mean, I know I don't trust many people other than you, Bobby—"

"Cass," Sam added, looking a bit surprised.

"Yeah, Cass, too," Dean said with a smile. "I actually miss him, you know. Weird as that sounds."

"I appreciate the sentiment."

Dean leapt off the bed and whirled around to see a familiar—albeit slightly bedraggled looking man—figure wearing a rumpled looking suit and a tan trenchcoat. "Cass!" Dean exclaimed and fought the urge to hug the angel. "Where the hell have you been, man?"

Castiel didn't look any different than the last time Dean and Sam had seen him although Dean noticed a hint of a smile on the angel's face as he looked at the two brothers. "It's good to see you, Cass," Sam said with a smile and Dean could tell that Sam was also resisting the urge to hug Castiel.

However, to the surprise of both Sam and Dean, Castiel slowly walked towards Sam and embraced him.

"Cass?" Dean asked, wondering if the look of bafflement and confusion on his face would become permanent.

Releasing Sam, Castiel turned to Dean, an embarrassed look on his face. "My apologies," Castiel said, looking at Sam. After a long moment, he added, "I missed you, too."

Sam's look of puzzlement mirrored Dean's as he looked at the angel's deadpan expression. Deciding to get down to business, Sam grabbed the files he'd shown Dean earlier out of his bag and set them on the dresser in the corner. "So, Cass, do you know what's been going on?"

"Hunters are returning from the dead," Castiel replied, his expression neutral. "The angels are not doing it, and God is still nowhere to be found."

"So no one's been making deals with demons, or working some heavy-duty black mojo?" Dean asked, feeling his annoyance rising. It was strange. When he was with Lisa and Ben he could usually completely keep his temper in check.

"Nothing that we can determine," Castiel replied, looking about the room. "All we know is that certain hunters are being brought back and offered a choice."

"What do you mean 'a choice'?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel fixed Sam with a look before responding. "A choice either to return as hunters or to walk away and embrace a normal life." Looking at both Winchesters, he added, "I don't know why they are returning."

Looking at the moment as a chance to get the angel's view on the situation, Dean asked, "But the people who have come back… It's really them, right? It's not some sort of demonic trick?"

Castiel looked from Sam to Dean and after a long moment finally answered. "To the best of my knowledge… Yes, everyone seems to be themselves."

"Okay, answer number one," Dean said, moving down the list of questions he'd formulated in his head for when Castiel finally showed up. "Any idea who else might turn up? Mom, Dad… Ellen and Jo?"

Castiel almost seemed saddened as he replied, "There is no way of knowing who has returned and who hasn't as of yet." Seeing Dean's crestfallen expression, he added, "But it is, of course, possible."

"So what's the plan?" Sam asked as he looked at his brother and Castiel.

"We find the demon Samuel sent us here to find," Dean replied, simply. "Then we make the son of a bitch talk."

Sam gave a nod of agreement and noticed that Castiel had vanished. Before Dean could open the bedroom door, he said, "Dean, wait."

Dean turned and gave Sam a tired look. "I really can't take much more news right now, Sammy. What?" But his eye was drawn towards the object that Sam held in his hand. It was the amulet that Sam had given him for Christmas years ago and he'd dropped in a trashcan after Castiel had tried to use it to find God only to find out that God wasn't going to help with the Apocalypse.

Sam saw Dean's look of surprise and said, "Dean, when I gave you this it was because you were the one person in our crazy lives I could always count on. You're my family first. Before Samuel… even before Bobby or even Dad."

"You saved this all this time?" Dean asked, taking the necklace and fingering the amulet.

"Yeah," Sam replied, nodding.

Dean looked at the amulet and then back up at his brother. After putting the amulet around his neck, he couldn't help but feel it was a step in the right direction for things to get back to the way they should be. Grinning, he opened the door and said, "Come on, Sammy. Let's go find us a demon."

Sam smiled and after grabbing his gun out of his bag, he followed Dean out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTES: After seeing the episode 'The Third Man' I have actually developed two theories on Sam: Either Sam did something very, very bad down in Hell or Lucifer is still inside him.

In regards to my next chapter, Dean and Castiel have a talk, more hunters turn up, and Sam is in trouble.

Chapter 3

* * *

After leaving the Winchesters, Castiel winged over to the Monroe Auto Body Shop and thankfully found Stella alone as she leaned over the engine of a car. Appearing next to her, he said, "Stella Monroe."

Stella jumped, smacking her head on the raised hood of the car she was fixing for a customer. "OW! Son of a bitch!" Rubbing her head as she turned to Castiel, she jumped again and snapped, "Who the hell are you?"

Castiel paused for a moment and then replied, "My name is Castiel. I'm an Angel of the Lord." Stella didn't seem impressed which made Castiel think that she already knew about him. "I know you are close to Sam Winchester."

"Is Sam okay?" Stella asked, wondering if something was wrong.

"You tell me," Castiel replied, allowing himself to display a minute amount of concern.

Stella sat down on the edge of the car front and looked at Castiel. "Sam told me about you. He thinks of you like a friend."

Castiel wasn't sure how to reply to that news and remained silent for a moment. But after Stella stood and resumed her work on the car, he said, "Something happened to Sam while he was in the Pit. Something he has discussed with no one else. His brother feels it. As do I. Tell me how to help him."

Stella lowered her head and the angel recognized the position as one of someone praying for guidance. Finally Stella straightened up and fixed Castiel with a look. "Oh, Sam _was_ in Hell, alright. And his time down there was anything but easy. But that's all you're getting from _me_." As she went back to her work, she added, "Sam's going to have to tell you the rest."

"He _won't_ tell me," Castiel replied, annoyed. "Why else would I be _here_? I want answers and you apparently have them."

When Stella straightened up again, Castiel recognized the stance she took as defensive and there was a fire in her eyes that he had seen in Sam Winchester's eyes many times before. "Answers?" Stella repeated, angrily. "How about _my_ answers? Like what the hell happened with my brother! Like why all these dead hunters are popping up again? Are we facing another Apocalypse and we're all being amassed like some sort of army?"

Castiel let out an exasperated sigh. It was very plain that this woman had been spending time with Sam Winchester as she'd apparently adopted some of his mannerisms. Specifically, Sam's temper. "I can't tell you because I _don't know_," he replied, irritably. "I wish I had answers but I don't. Now…" Taking a breath, Castiel forced himself to regain control of his emotions. "_Please_ tell me about Sam."

Stella crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Let me just… tell my uncle I'm taking a lunch break."

* * *

Sam and Dean were used to using fake badges to get into hospitals, police departments, and supernatural crime scenes. Lying was something of a way of life for a hunter and the Winchesters were good at it.

But when they entered the headquarters of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, they were surprised to find high grade visitor's passes waiting for them at security.

"Wait, so we can just go ahead in?" Dean asked, more than a bit surprised.

"You said Special Agent Gibbs was expecting you, right?" one of the guards asked. When Sam confirmed the statement, the guard shrugged. "Then go right ahead, gentlemen. Gibbs is one of the best judges of character I know. If he said you guys are good, that's enough for me."

As Dean and Sam walked around the metal detectors, Dean smiled at Sam. "I really think I'm starting to like this guy."

"It could be a trap," Sam replied as they got in the elevator along with a beautiful, leggy redhead who gave each of them a seductive smile. After a few moments of checking out the young woman, Sam felt Dean elbow him in the ribs. Turning to his brother, Sam said quietly, "What was I saying?"

"That this could all be a trap," Dean muttered as he, too, eyed the hottie standing in front of him. _'Think of Lisa. Think of Lisa,'_ Dean ordered himself. Hell, it had only been 4 days since he'd last seen Lisa. Was he really that lonely already? Of course it didn't help that this young woman was armed to the teeth. As Dean eyed her, he could see that she was carrying at least three knives and at least two guns. It was one of odd things about being a hunter: weaponry could very easily become a major turn-on.

When the elevator arrived at their floor, Sam and Dean started to step out when they noticed that their elevator companion got off with them and was also heading towards Gibbs who gave her a smile.

"Oh, no, man. Don't tell me she's…" Dean whined as he saw the girl give Gibbs a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

From about 10 feet away, Sam could still hear as the girl said the words 'Hi Dad' and he gave a deep, disappointed sigh. "Yep. She is."

"Can I help you?"

As Sam and Dean turned to the woman who'd spoken, They both found themselves staring at one of the most beautiful women either of them had ever seen. Dark brown—almost black hair—eyes the color of chocolate, beautiful lips, , and there was something exotic about her that neither brother could quite place. And both Sam and Dean knew that this was also one woman who could easily kill them _without_ weapons.

"Uh, I'm—" Dean started to say, although he suddenly couldn't remember what name he was using.

"We-We're Agents, uh…" Sam said, trying to cover and failing miserably.

The woman smiled and held out a hand as she said, "Agent Ziva David." Looking over at Gibbs, she saw that he looked both amused and just the slightest bit annoyed. "I'll be here if you want to introduce yourselves after you talk to Gibbs," she said to the two brothers. Once they'd headed into the conference room along with Gibbs and Kelly and closed the door, Ziva sat back down at her desk, smiling to herself.

xxx

In the conference room, Dean and Sam eyed Gibbs' daughter as she sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in her chair and eyeing the younger men like they were two steaks and she was a hungry dog.

After a moment of watching the visual exchange, Gibbs gave a small sigh of exasperation and leaned forward, smacking both Winchesters on the back of the head.

The headslap seemed to jolt Dean and Sam out of their staring and Sam asked, "How come she's here?" he asked, nodding to Kelly.

"Because 'A': I'm a hunter," Kelly replied, looking almost amused at the fact that the brothers were now making an effort to avoid looking at her. "And 'B'… I look good for a corpse."

"You were brought back, too?" Sam asked, looking at Kelly.

"Kelly died two years ago," Gibbs replied. "Then last year she came back. About the same time Vance started acting strangely."

"Vance is the NCIS Director?" Dean asked. When Gibbs nodded, Dean went on. "Ever smelled any sulpher around him?"

"Yeah, once," Kelly replied, thoughtfully.

Dean looked over at Kelly as a question was starting to tug at him. "Okay, how come no one thinks it's strange that you're walking around if you were dead?"

Kelly shrugged as she sat up, leaning forward. "Dad kept my death quiet. Hell, the only other person who knew about me being a hunter, other than Dad, was Dr. Mallard."

"Mallard?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Our medical examiner," Gibbs replied, succinctly.

"Everyone calls him Ducky," Kelly added. "After I came back we just… acted like I was incommunicado for a year and change."

"Okay, getting back to the main issue," Sam interjected before he started fantasizing about Kelly again. "What's the plan with Vance?"

"Interrogate him and then shoot his ass full of rock salt," Kelly replied, leaning back in her chair again. "We'll be done before lunch."

"Have you ever actually tortured a demon before?" Dean asked Kelly, his expression dark. When she shrugged, he said, "Trust me… it won't be that simple."

"Well, then what do _you_ suggest?" Kelly asked, crossing her arms. Sometimes she really hated working with other hunters. Everyone always thought that _they_ knew the best way to solve a problem when nine times out of ten the best solution was in fact the simplest one.

Looking at Kelly and then at Gibbs, Dean replied, "Leave this to Sam and me. We'll trap the demon and get him to spill anything he knows."

"Yeah, and you're just going to walk right into the director's office?" Kelly asked, amused at the idea. "You're going to need to Vance out of his office first of all."

"And you have an idea of how to do that?" Dean asked, wondering why this kid acted like she knew more than he did.

Kelly smiled and shared a look with Gibbs who nodded. "MTAC," he said, simply. Looking at Sam and Dean, Gibbs asked, "How soon can you be ready to trap this demon?"

xxx

As Kelly helped her father sneak Sam and Dean into MTAC, she found herself thinking about her life as a hunter and the circumstances that set her future in motion.

When Kelly and Shannon had been in a car crash when Kelly was 8-years-old they had both been seriously injured. Shannon had suffered multiple fractures and Kelly ended up in a coma from a combination of blood loss and severe head trauma.

After 3 months of seeing her daughter at death's door, Shannon had—in desperation—found herself standing at a dirt crossroads out in the middle of nowhere where she signed over her soul in exchange for Kelly's life.

10 years after the deal had been made, Shannon had finally confessed her actions to Kelly just before hellhounds attacked, tearing Shannon apart while her daughter watched, horrified.

But while Kelly had told her father about the whole demonic world, she had never been able to tell him about her mother's deal.

xxx

When Leon Vance arrived in MTAC, he was surprised to see Gibbs standing in front of the main screen alone. "What's going on, Gibbs?" Vance demanded as he approached the agent. But when he suddenly found himself unable to move, Vance looked down at the floor and saw a Devil's Trap drawn in chalk on the carpet. Hearing several shotguns he looked around, frowning when he saw Sam and Dean Winchester and Kelly. "I always knew there was a reason I never liked you," Vance said to Kelly as she looked almost gleefully at him.

Kelly pulled a small squirt gun out of her pocket as she approached him, her other hand still holding the shotgun full of rock salt. As she fired the squirt gun—filled with holy water—she replied, "Same here."

Vance hissed angrily as the holy water burned him. Looking at the three hunters he noticed that Gibbs had left the room. "So what now? Going to exorcise me?"

"Maybe," Kelly replied, handing the squirt gun to Sam and raising her shotgun. "If you're lucky. What's with bringing hunters back?"

"You think I'm going to tell you?" Vance sneered. "I'm not that stupid."

"Maybe you're not," Dean said, darkly as walked up to Vance. "But you _will_ talk. I promise you that." Whipping out a silver knife, he sliced Vance across the chest, feeling a bit of grim satisfaction when the demon cried out in pain. "Tell us who's behind this!"

"You want to know what's going on?" Vance hissed as he glared at Dean. "Heaven and Hell are in chaos, _that's_ what's been going on."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, not sure he understood.

"You know what I'm talking about, Sam Winchester," Vance replied. "What you did down there threw _everything_ out of order."

Dean kept his eyes on Vance as he asked, "Sam? What's he talking about?"

"Yeah, tell him, Sam," Vance goaded. "Tell your brother what happened when you ended up in Hell. How you tortured yourself until Lucifer finally released himself from you out self-preservation."

Dean turned to Sam, not wanting to believe the demon's words. "Sammy? Is that true?" When his brother wouldn't look at him, Dean shouted, "Sam!"

Sam turned to Dean, and the look on his face was one of deepest anguish. "I couldn't take it anymore, Dean. I had to get him out. He wouldn't get out."

Sam was nearly in tears and Dean wasn't far behind. He remembered torturing and being tortured and when Dean thought of his brother doing those things to _himself_… "Why, Sam?"

"I just wanted it to stop," Sam explained, trying not to cry.

"Okay," Kelly said, shakily as she looked at Vance. "But how did that cause all the hunters to come back?"

Vance didn't reply to that and after more than an hour of torture Dean finally raised the Colt and killed the demon.


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I felt since there was a fair amount of emotion going on in this chapter that's I'd just leave it as a short one. Next chapter should be longer.

Next chapter, Ellen and Jo Harvelle are back and we find out more about Kelly and Stella's histories as hunters and Dean goes out on a date.

Chapter 4

* * *

When Dean and Sam got back to Stella's place an hour later, Dean felt like he was on emotional overload as he got out of the Impala and faced off with Sam. "You son of a bitch," Dean said, trying to avoid having an emotional meltdown but he couldn't stop the way his voice cracked. Sam didn't seem to be as emotional, but Dean knew that the stoicism was his brother's way of dealing with things sometimes and there was a storm of emotion in Sam's eyes. Reaching up, Dean shoved Sam hard in the chest, making him stagger back a few feet. "All this time and you never told me. What happened to you, Sammy? Why didn't you tell me?"

It was taking everything Sam had not to break down in front of Dean. "Dean… I couldn't. I mean I can barely stand to even think about it. I don't sleep because I have nightmares about it."

"Oh, and it was a cakewalk for me? Tell me," Dean ordered, trying to force himself to calm down. "Right now. Everything."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. The first part of what happened wasn't as painful. It was what had happened later that had been the worst. "Lucifer was fighting me when I ended up in the cage, Dean," he explained, shakily. "And he took over me again. And he… He started to play with my mind."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, hesitantly. As much as he wanted to know what Sam had been hiding, there was something deep in his gut that told him that he should just leave it alone. Something that was deeply afraid of hearing what his brother had to say.

Sam fought back tears as he looked at Dean. His big brother… The one who always had his back, who would do anything for him… "I thought I was torturing you, Dean. You, Bobby, Mom and Dad… I couldn't stop myself and it felt so real…" Sam could still hear his brother's screams… his parents'… He could remember the way the knife felt sliding into their bodies.

Dean nodded, slowly. He wanted it to stop but he had to hear the rest. "And then?" He prompted as Sam started to look afraid.

Sam shook his head, looking fearful. "Dean, don't… Don't ask. Please." Sam didn't want to remember. He didn't want Dean to know anything. Wouldn't it be better for everyone if Dean thought Sam had escaped from Hell because of strength of spirit rather than weakness?

Taking a deep breath and drawing on all those years of protecting Sam, all the times he'd stuck with his brother, Dean waited until Sam looked him in the eye before he spoke. "Sammy… whatever it is… we'll deal with it. Together. But you've got to talk to me, man. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on, Sam."

Sam nodded, knowing Dean was right. In fact, it was Dean that had first helped him start to deal with what happened in Hell. Just watching Dean from a distance, seeing him alive with Lisa and Ben had helped enforce the fact that Sam was away from all the torment. That he was _back_. After a few moments, Sam continued with his story. "One day I… I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted Lucifer out of me and I turned the knife on myself." Sam was breathing heavily and he just wanted Dean to leave him alone. "I kept going… cutting, stabbing… and then the next thing I knew I was in that field."

Dean wiped away his own tears and looked at Sam who looked like a complete mess. He knew he should say something to Sam—comfort him, hug him, or something—but Dean couldn't find the words. He felt frozen in place like there was some kind of Devil's Trap beneath his feet. Hearing footsteps and the faintest ruffle of wings, Dean turned to see Stella hurrying up to Sam followed by Castiel who looked fairly rattled.

Sam had fallen to his knees and Stella knelt down, holding onto him as he put his arms around her, crying.

Dean looked down at his brother and a deep stab of shame. _He_ should be the one comforting his brother… But he couldn't even say anything to him. All he could do was stand there.

"Dean," Castiel said as he approached his friend, reaching out a hand and winging himself and Dean to the shore of a lake, deep in the Virginia woods. Watching as Dean wandered around a bit, Castiel could feel his pain as Dean let out an anguished scream before sinking down onto a large boulder near the edge of the grass. "I thought you might need a moment alone to… vent," he said, walking up to Dean.

But Dean felt like he was beyond comfort at that moment as he stared out at the calm water. "I can't do it, Cass. I-I mean I thought I could. I thought I could just go back to hunting and everything, but… I think right now I just want to go back to when I thought Sam was dead, you know? I mean, I was a wreck half the time with the drinking and the nightmares and for the first few months I drove Lisa crazy with putting salt on the windows and doors."

"It was… hard for me to hear about Sam's ordeal as well," Castiel admitted as he looked around the clearing. When Dean looked at him in disbelief, he explained. "Sam confided in Stella Monroe. She's the one who told me what happened to Sam."

Dean buried his head in his hands and didn't reply. He just cried, wishing he was back with Lisa. His life had been something of a mess the past year but he'd started to get it together. The past few months he'd actually been sleeping more, drinking less. He'd even started to like working construction.

Now his brother and grandfather were alive along with a couple of third cousins he'd never even heard of before. And here in DC Dean had been thrown together with three beautiful women and each one of them tried his fidelity to Lisa.

Beside him, Castiel stood quietly by like a sentry as he watched Dean try to deal with the newest upsets in his life.

* * *

In her bedroom, Stella sat on the edge of the bed, watching Sam as he changed from the suit he'd been wearing into jeans. "I talked to your friend Castiel earlier," Stella prompted, watching Sam as he went into the connecting bathroom and splashed water on his face. Getting up, she went over to Sam and put a hand on his bare shoulder, turning him so that he faced her. "Why didn't you tell him?"

Sam turned away, not wanting to have to go through everything again but he stopped when Stella held his arm. Turning back to her, he tried not to fall apart again. "I don't know what I'm doing here, Stella," Sam admitted as he grabbed his favorite blue shirt off of Stella's bed. "I don't know why I'm alive, why I'm _here_…"

Stella sat on the bed again and after a pause, she said, "Castiel has a theory."

Sam hesitated before pulling on his shirt and finally waited. "And?"

"Samuel Campbell, Kelly Gibbs… my brother…" Stella paused for a moment and then looked up at Sam. "Sam, they all… They all sacrificed themselves."

Sam scoffed at that as he grabbed his flannel shirt from the chair in the corner. "So, what? I'm back because I threw myself into Hell and tortured myself?"

Stella slowly stood again and took a step towards Sam. "You _chose_ to die. I think that somehow that action… set off a chain reaction. I don't know how, o-or why, or even what the endgame is, but…"

Sam sat next to Stella but he didn't look at her as he spoke. "I think… some part of me wanted to die. I-I was just so tired of… of everything." Turning to Stella, Sam could feel tears in his eyes again. "I can't keep going like this. I know there's something going on and I know Samuel and the cousins need me…"

"Even 24/7 demon hunters need a break once in a while," Stella replied, taking Sam's hand.

But Sam wasn't comforted. "And did you see Dean? He couldn't even look at me after I told him what happened. Like he was ashamed of me." Getting up he sighed. "I mean was it because I wasn't as strong as Dean was in Hell? Because I started torturing myself?"

"You know why _I_ saw shame, Sam?' Stella asked, eying him shrewdly. "It wasn't because Dean's ashamed of _you_."

"Then what?" Sam asked, looking confused. "I mean Dean and I have had our moments but my own brother couldn't even look at me while I was falling apart back there."

"Because Dean's ashamed of _himself_," Stella replied, standing and turning to face Sam. "Because I think Dean believes he failed you. He should have done something to get you out sooner. He should have been doing something to help you instead of having a normal life. And in case you didn't notice, Dean wasn't doing any better than you at keeping it together."

"How do I deal with this?" Sam asked, hoping Stella would have some advice for him. "I mean lately I've really been thinking I should have just come back here and settled down with you."

"Really?" Stella asked, looking surprised.

But before Sam could reply, his cell phone rang. Seeing that the caller was his grandfather, Sam answered it. "Yeah, what's up?"

On the other end of the line, Samuel said, "Two more hunters heading your way."

"Names?" Sam asked, signaling Stella for a pen and paper. When she handed the item to Sam, however, he'd frozen, an astonished look on his face. "A-Are you sure? Harvelle?"

"That's what I said," Samuel replied. "Woman named Ellen and her daughter Jo. I talked to them yesterday and they said they've been looking for you and Dean."

Sam rubbed his face with one hand and gave a nod. "Okay, I'll keep my eyes peeled for them."

When Sam hung up, he looked at Stella who had a sad smile on her face. "I've got to go." He started to turn for the door but stopped and when he turned back to her, he looked hesitant. "Stella, what I said before… about settling down… with you…"

Stella gave Sam a kiss on the cheek before opening the door as she said, "Talk to me later after you find your friends. You know where I'll be."

But after Stella left, closing the door behind her, Sam gave a deep sigh. "I love you, Stella." Rolling his eyes, he gave an exasperated sigh as he stretched. Why couldn't he just say it to her?


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I threw in some history regarding Stella and what eventually kicked off Kelly's life as a hunter. Next chapter will meld with the 'Supernatural' episode Weekend at Bobby's. You'll see why later in this chapter.

Read, review, and enjoy y'all!

Chapter 5

* * *

_A History of Hunters_

_**Stella Monroe**_

The Monroe Family Rule was simple: You're a hunter. Period.

Ever since the first hunters came to America on the _Mayflower_ the Monroe family had been deeply entrenched in the war against the supernatural.

Over the years, however, the rule was ever so slightly relaxed, allowing one of the most famous hunters to make a name for himself. Even those deepest in the network of hunters didn't quite believe that Benjamin Franklin himself was once a demon hunter.

x

When Stella was only 5 years old, her father taught her how to safely handle a knife. Two years later she learned how to shoot.

For years, she'd watch her father drive away to somewhere from the driveway, waving good-bye as her two older brothers (Kyle being 5 years older than her and Jeff being 8 years older) stood nearby with their mother who held Stella's baby brother, Tommy, who couldn't wait until he was 'big enough to hunt monsters with Daddy'.

x

As Stella grew up and started to learn the family business, she also learned that although being a hunter was a given, how you approached that calling was a variable. Stella's uncle, Jonathan, had a permanent injury to his knee after one bad fight with a vampire. Since he wasn't as swift in a fight anymore, he'd fallen back on his other talent: car repair and maintenance. He'd rationalized that it was hard for hunters to find places to take their vehicles that worked pro bono and didn't mind finding weaponry all over.

Stella's mother, Heather, had opened the diner stating that everyone had to eat. If she knew any hunters coming in, she'd comp their meals or at the very least make sure they had cups of coffee and a couple muffins to go.

Laura Monroe, Stella's sister, had been absolutely dreadful when it came to weapons training and when she'd turned 18 she'd started working the finances for the diner and auto shop while also helping any hunters passing through with research and information on the local goings on.

x

The worst day of Stella's life happened when she'd just turned 25. She and Tommy—then 18—had been out in the woods of Virginia hunting what they believed to be a werewolf. When the beast attacked suddenly, catching them both off guard, Tommy had drawn the werewolf off, allowing Stella to get away. By the time she'd wrangled her father and brothers, Tommy had been killed.

The death had caused a rift between Stella and her family. Stella's brothers blamed her for not doing a better job of having Tommy's back. Stella blamed her father for just sending the two of them out alone without verifying what the monster was. After her brother's death, Stella moved out of the family home and into her sister's place for almost a year. Once the dust had settled, so to speak, Stella'd had a sit-down with her father, declaring her retirement from hunting.

And although even now she still had her ear to the ground with the hunter community, she made it clear to her family on a regular basis that she was out of the business itself.

Until she met Sam Winchester.

Working in the auto shop one day, Stella had looked up when she heard the rumbling engine and seeing the '67 Impala pull into the repair bay, she couldn't help smiling. It was a car she dreamed of and when the guy driving tried to explain the problem, she'd even laughed at how hopeless he'd been.

Finding out that Sam was a hunter, talking about things while she worked on the car, Stella had started to feel some knot deep inside her start to unwind. When Sam finally drove away a few days later, she'd made him promise to keep in touch.

When Tommy had come back, Stella had assumed her brother would jump right back into hunting with the family but instead, he'd completely abandoned hunting and enrolled at a local art school.

And things only seemed to get stranger…

_**Kelly Gibbs**_

At first, right after the accident, Shannon had been sure that Kelly would wake up. But as days turned to weeks and months, Shannon had begun to feel an increasing sense of desperation. She had to save her little girl. As she watched Jethro hold Kelly's hand, Shannon wished that there was something—anything—to bring Kelly out of the coma.

"Mrs. Gibbs."

Shannon turned to see a man with thinning black hair and a shrewd look standing behind her. Wiping away the tears in her eyes, she studied the man carefully. "Yes?"

The man smiled which did nothing to make him more appealing. On the contrary, when he smiled he seemed almost _too_ eager. Like a wolf or a tiger circling prey. He held out a hand and when Shannon reluctantly shook it, he spoke in a cultured English accent, "Name's Crowley. Maybe we should find someplace quiet to talk."

Shannon wasn't sure what happened next. One second she was standing outside her daughter's hospital room and the next she was standing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of two intersecting dirt roads. "Where are we?" she asked Crowley. "And who—_what—_are you?"

"As I believe I mentioned before," Crowley replied, sounding a bit annoyed. "My name's Crowley. As for 'what', well… that's not important." Sticking his hands in his pockets, he walked around Shannon, almost drinking in the despair she gave off. This one would be just too easy. When he was facing her again, he went on. "What _is_ important is what I can do for you." Seeing the look of confusion on the woman's face, Crowley smiled. "I can fix your little girl up, good as new." He purposely hesitated for a moment before adding, "For a price."

Shannon wasn't about to believe this and she took a few steps back from Crowley but when she thought of Kelly, she stopped. "You can bring Kelly back?"

"I'll even give you 10 years with her before I collect my fee," Crowley replied. "Give you a chance to watch your kid grow up. What do you say?"

"What do I have to do?" Shannon asked, not sure what exactly she was getting into. But it didn't matter. Kelly was more important than anything else in the world to her. And Jethro would never get over it if their daughter died.

Crowley smiled again as he walked right up to Shannon and without warning, kissed her to seal the crossroads deal. Desperate parents were almost no fun. There was hardly any working or convincing required. When he stepped back and turned to leave, he turned back and, as an afterthought, asked, "By the way… You're not afraid of dogs are you?"

Shannon frowned at the odd question and shook her head. "No. Why?"

"No reason. Just curious," Crowley replied with a grin. "And don't worry. Your little girl will be fine by the time you get back."

And before Shannon knew what had happened, she was back in the hospital. Looking into Kelly's room, she saw that she was sitting up and hugging her father.

x

Ten years later, Shannon would quickly tell her daughter what she had done before hellhounds attacked. She would make Kelly swear to hunt down the demon Crowley and kill him.

It was a promise that would make Kelly into a hunter.

* * *

_**Ziva David**_

Almost everyone knew Ziva David as the Mossad officer working with NCIS. That her father had raised her to be a soldier from childhood.

But as Ziva walked up to the handsome guy in his late 20's at the bar, she knew that no one would ever guess the real reason for her upbringing. Sitting down next to Dean Winchester, Ziva waited until he turned to her before giving him a smile.

"Agent David," Dean said in greeting as he flagged down the bartender. Turning to the young woman behind the bar, he said, "Round for the lady, please."

Ziva smiled at the bartender. "Mojito, Heidi," she said with a smile. Looking at Dean, she asked, "Where is your brother?"

"Not sure," Dean replied, taking a swig of his beer. "Look, I know we didn't get to introductions earlier," Dean said as he swiveled his barstool around to look at Ziva.

"Actually, I already knew who you were, Dean," Ziva interrupted, turning to him.

"Okay," Dean said, giving her a smile. "I'll bite. How'd you know who I was?"

"My mother—" Ziva broke off when Heidi placed a glass in front of her. Once the bartender moved away, Ziva resumed talking in a low voice. "My mother was a hunter."

"Mine, too," Dean replied. And in the back of his mind, a question was popping up. Was _everyone_ in this town either a hunter or a demon? "My mom's from a family of hunters. Dad became one after she died."

Ziva nodded in understanding. "When my father found out, he decided that I would be perfect for Mossad."

"Mossad?" Dean asked, not quite sure what Ziva was talking about.

Ziva thought for a moment and then replied, "Israeli version of the American CIA. My father is the Director."

"So what are you doing here in DC?" Dean wanted to know. Finishing off his beer, he ordered another and waited for Ziva to continue her story.

But Ziva was quiet as she sipped her drink, thinking of how to tell her tale. "My half-brother, Ari, killed one of Gibbs' agents. I was sent to… to kill Ari."

"I can relate," Dean said, mostly to himself as he took a long drink of his beer, thinking of the mess with Michael and Lucifer.

Ziva started to argue that Dean couldn't possibly understand but when her eyes met his, she could see that Dean knew all too well about losing family. "It's been hard," she went on. "I keep asking myself if there had been a way to save my brother, but I know that there wasn't."

"So do you see your dad much anymore?" Dean asked, curious. There was something in the way she spoke about her family that made her doubt that she did.

And there it was. The subject Ziva tried to avoid lately. She hated talking about her father because every time she thought about Eli David, the emotional scars and pain of his betrayals and manipulations came back up to the surface. "No," Ziva replied, simply. "But we did not exactly part on the best of terms."

"I hear that," Dean replied, thinking of the last time he'd seen his father alive. "My dad… he, uh… raised me and Sam to be hunters. But all my mom wanted was for us to lead normal lives."

"My mother wanted the same for me," Ziva replied, flagging down Heidi for a second mojito. "Sometimes I hate my father for what he turned me into."

"Don't hate him," Dean said, quickly, giving Ziva a look. When she looked questioningly at him, Dean let out a long sigh. "My dad's dead. And there's some awful things I said to him and about him that I can never take back. And there's even more stuff I wish I _had_ said that I'll never get a chance to. Don't do that to yourself. Because it'll just eat away at you."

Ziva's gaze hardened a bit as she stared Dean down. "You do not have any idea what I've been through with my father. What has happened to me because I trusted him."

"Torture?" Dean suggested quietly, not backing down. "Been there, done that. Literally. And I've done the wrong thing more damn times than I can count. I know what it's like not having a father you can depend on, believe me." His gaze softened as he thought of Cass, Sam, and Bobby. "But I also know that family doesn't end with blood."

That made Ziva pause and as she took in Dean's words, she knew he was right. Director Sheppard had always been a mentor and surrogate mother to Ziva. McGee and DiNozzo were her best friends—almost brothers, really. Abby and Kelly had come to be like her sisters, each of them reminding her of Tali in their own separate ways.

And then there was Gibbs. Every time she thought about a father figure her mind turned immediately to Gibbs. Even when she'd first started working with him, she saw a devotion and loyalty that seemed almost unreal but through the years Ziva had come to learn that Tony, McGee, Abby, and Ducky would do anything for Gibbs because Gibbs would do anything for them.

As they finished off their drinks and ordered another round, Ziva and Dean fell into a comfortable silence. Dean had turned away from Ziva as his emotional baggage gave way to the feelings he'd had when he first saw Ziva. He was lonely. He missed Lisa and the last thing he wanted to do was cheat on her…

"Hey, can I get a couple beers?"

The familiar voice jarred Dean out of his thoughts and he looked over at the woman who spoke, doing a double-take when he saw who it was. "Ellen?"

Ellen Harvelle stopped and turned to Dean, disbelief in her eyes. "Oh, my God."

"Nice to see you, too—OW!" Dean nearly fell off the barstool when Ellen's punch landed and while pinching his bleeding nose with one hand, he held up the other to stave off the other people gathering around. "It's okay! It's okay, she's a friend."

Thankfully, Ziva had slipped off her own barstool and pulled out her badge. "NCIS," she said, looking around at everyone else. "Everything's under control." Looking at Ellen and Dean, she added, "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere, yes?"

Sitting in a dingy hotel room, an icepack to his face, Dean just stared at Ellen and her daughter, Jo. Ziva stood nearby, watching Dean. "So the two of you are back, too?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Ellen replied, simply, pouring a shot of whiskey for herself and Dean. After handing him the glass, she went on. "Checked in with Bobby. He told us about Sam, but…"

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"Jo and I got out of town for a while," Ellen replied, sitting on the edge of the bed closest to Dean. "Jo wanted to find you, find Sam… But I was just so damn grateful we were alive, we just headed out."

"Mom even took me shopping," Jo added with a grin. "It was wild."

"Shopping?" Dean asked, looking from Ellen to Jo. "Like… clothes and all that crap?"

"Hey, we stopped at a gun and knife show on the way here," Ellen replied, smacking Dean lightly on the leg. "Wasn't all clothes, makeup, and stuff."

"So the two of you were dead?" Ziva asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hellhound," Jo replied, succinctly, feeling an unconscious shiver at the memory.

"Explosion," Ellen added. "Sorry about the punch, by the way. Just letting off some steam about the getting killed thing."

Dean shrugged. "Don't sweat it." After he tossed back his drink and reapplied the icepack to his nose—thankfully not broken—he smiled at the ladies in the room. "I had a dream like this once… except you gals are supposed to be naked." Ellen reached over and smacked Dean on the back of the head while Jo punched him hard in the shoulder. Looking over at Ziva, he frowned slightly. "You're not going to hit me, too?"

Ziva had a sly smile on her face as she replied, "I think you have done enough bleeding tonight. Don't you?"


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm having a smidge of trouble thinking of the best way to blend this story with the RL episode 'Weekend at Bobby's' so I figured I'd post this while I try to figure out the next chapter.

Chapter Summary: Gibbs finds out more about Shannon's crossroads deal while Dean and Stella have a heart-to-heart.

Chapter 6

* * *

It had been a long time since 'My Little Pony' posters and hand-drawn pictures covered the walls of Kelly's bedroom.

As Gibbs walked into his daughter's bedroom, he looked at the old well-written-on maps tacked up on the walls next to pictures of murder victims and newspaper articles of supernatural deaths. Piles of old books on creatures and lore were scattered about and looking at one of the open volumes, Gibbs hesitated before picking up the book and reading the open page. After a minute or two he set the book down and went over to Kelly's desk, looking at the papers lying haphazard around the laptop computer. At the bottom of a pile, he found an old copy of the NCIS report on Shannon's death which was covered in Kelly's handwriting.

As Gibbs sat down on Kelly's bed to read the notes, he spotted an old journal poking out from under the papers on the desk. After grabbing the journal and report, Gibbs headed downstairs to the basement and turned on the light before pouring himself a shot of bourbon. After donning his reading glasses, he looked through the report, taking note of what Kelly had written. After a while, he set the report aside and after a moment of hesitation, opened the journal and started looking through it.

After reading only the first two pages, Gibbs gulped down his drink and poured himself another before rereading the pages again. Sighing as he removed his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh, Shannon," he muttered as he looked back at the journal. He knew that he shouldn't be reading Kelly's journal—she'd obviously kept it hidden for a reason—but at the same time Gibbs wanted to know everything. He knew the basics from what Kelly reluctantly shared with him but seeing that Shannon's death had been caused by actually making a deal with a demon…

He took a long swig of his bourbon and grabbed his reading glasses again. It was going to be a long night…

xxxxxxxx

Kelly had just pulled into her driveway that night when her cellphone rang. After parking her car, she pulled the phone out and answered, "Kelly."

"Hey, kid, it's Bobby," Bobby Singer replied.

"Hey, Bobby," Kelly said as she got out of the car. Leaning against the side, she asked, "Any luck on Crowley?"

"As a matter of fact," the older hunter replied, happily. "I just happen to know some dirt on the bastard."

Kelly straightened up, her expression eager. "What do you got?"

"Crowley's real name," Bobby replied. "And he had a son."

"Okay, but where is he?" Kelly asked, eagerly. "Bobby… I've been wanting to kill this son of a bitch for 8 years now." Pacing next to her car, she pulled the scrunchie out of her hair as she talked. "What else do we know?"

"Well, looks like he's probably down in a small area of Scotland," Bobby went on. "I've got a plan on how to find exactly where he's planted." After a pause, he added, "I know it's probably a stupid question but when we find him are you sure about…?"

"About killing him?" Kelly asked, leaning against the car. She felt a raw surge of emotion bubble up inside and she said, "The last thing I ever said to my mother was a promise to kill the demon she made that crossroads deal with." Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she went on. "I broke a lot of promises to my mom, Bobby. This will not be one of them."

"I figured as much," Bobby replied, understandingly. "I'll call you as soon as I've got a location pinned down."

"Thanks, Bobby," Kelly said before hanging up the phone. Once inside the house, she headed down to the basement where she found her father waiting for her. Looking at the workbench, she saw the old police report and her hunter's journal. When she looked up and met her father's gaze, she saw the deep-rooted pain in his eyes. Pulling up a sawhorse and having a seat, she looked at her father with a mixture of expectation and melancholy. "So… What do you want to know, Dad?"

Gibbs wasn't sure where to begin as he pulled up a seat as well. Looking over at the journal and the police report he finally replied, "Beginning's a good place to start."

"Okay," Kelly said, simply as she tried to think of how to start. "When I was in that coma when I was 8… Mom was desperate for any way to save me. And she made a deal with this demon named Crowley." Kelly licked her lips as she felt tears welling up in her eyes. "She didn't want me to die, Dad. Crowley gave her 10 years before…"

"Before ripping her apart?" Gibbs finished, looking over at the journal. "And what are hellhounds?"

Kelly ran both hands through her hair and said, "Hellhounds are demonic dogs, basically. They tear into a victim and… After the person's dead—if they made a deal—their soul… ends up in Hell."

Gibbs could have sworn his heart had stopped when Kelly said that and he wasn't quite sure how to reply. Shannon—the love of his life, the woman who gave him the daughter sitting before him—had been in Hell. The only thing that had kept him going while Kelly had been dead was the idea that Kelly and Shannon were together once more.

Kelly started to reach for her father's hand but stopped as she realized that there really was nothing she could say to make him feel better. Covering up the gesture, she reached for her journal and opened it to a page near the front of the book. "Before she died, Mom made me promise to find Crowley and kill him. That's why I became a hunter. I've been trying to get a bead on him but he's hard to track." Setting the journal aside for a moment, she said, "Dad, I never wanted you to find out about all this. The basics, sure. But knowing about Mom… This is _my_ fight, Dad. Not yours."

"You should have told me, Kelly," Gibbs said, quietly.

"I know," Kelly said in a choked voice as tears started falling down her cheeks. Sniffling, she said, "I just didn't know how to tell you, Dad. I was afraid that…" She bit her lip and paused before going on. "I was afraid that you'd blame me for Mom's death."

"What?" Gibbs asked in disbelief. "How could you think—?"

"Mom made that deal because of me!" Kelly said, practically shouting. "If it hadn't been for the deal Mom would be alive!"

Gibbs stood and pulled Kelly into a hug. After a moment, he waited until she looked at him before he said, "Kelly, I thought I was going to lose you after the accident. When Shannon died… I would have done the same thing she did."

"Why?" Kelly asked, pulling away a bit. "Dad, you have no idea… about what happened to Mom down there…"

"Kelly, you are _the_ most important thing in the world to me," Gibbs said, making sure Kelly was looking him in the eye as he spoke. "That's why Shannon did what she did. I don't blame you, Kelly."

After a few moments, Kelly threw her arms around Gibbs' neck and felt him hug her tightly as she cried into his shoulder.

* * *

Stella was typically an early riser but that morning she found herself dragging as she got up and dressed before heading downstairs for a quick cup of coffee. Thankfully, her uncle, Jonathan, lived above the shop and usually got up around 5 in the morning so at least there would be someone at the shop that morning.

Once she'd arrived at the auto shop, Stella looked over the list of cars in for maintenance or repair and decided to get to the simpler jobs first before getting to work on some of the more involved work.

x

It was nearing 1 in the afternoon when Dean headed into the Monroe Auto Shop to find Stella. As he passed the '66 Mustang she'd been working on when he'd first seen her, he resisted the urge to run a hand across the shining hood. Even if Stella wasn't a hunter anymore, he had the feeling she'd still be a formidable opponent.

Finding Stella leaning over the hood of an old station wagon, Dean waited until he was standing next to her before clearing his throat to announce himself.

Not having heard Dean sneaking up, Stella jumped when Dean cleared his throat, smacking her head against the raised hood of the car. "OW! God damnit!" Turning to Dean, she smacked him hard in the shoulder with her right hand as she rubbed her head with her left. "I swear to God if you or your friend Castiel does that to me one more time…!"

"Cass was here?" Dean asked, surprised. But after a moment, he remembered that the angel _did_ tell him that he'd found about Sam's time in Hell from Stella.

"Yeah," Stella replied, turning back to the car. "And before you start jumping on me about hiding what happened to Sam from you—"

"No, I get it," Dean said, cutting her off. Leaning against the side of the station wagon, he went on. "I've been there."

Stella was still for a moment before she straightened up and looked at Dean. "I know. He talked about it when I was working on the Impala when we first met."

The slightly brooding look on Dean's face gave was to shock and dismay as he said, "You were working on my car?"

Stella couldn't help the laugh that escaped her and she gave Dean a warm smile. "Dean, relax. It was actually kind of funny, what happened." Seeing that Dean wasn't looking at the situation as humorous, she sighed, still smiling. "Sam came in, saying he thought there was something wrong with the car. Thought he heard a rattle. I asked him a bunch of standard questions-you know, location, what kind of rattle, intermittant or constant-and most of his answers consisted of basically 'I don't know'. Then I asked him if he knew what a car rattle sounded like."

Dean couldn't help but smile. Much as he loved Sam and even though he'd tried to teach his younger brother the ins and outs of the Impala's engine, he knew his brother wasn't a gearhead. "So what was it?" he asked, curious.

"Just needed a tune-up," Stella replied with a shrug. "But I also did the oil and fluids while I was working on it."

"What kind of oil?" Dean asked, something popping up in his mind. When he'd first driven the Impala after coming back from Hell he'd noticed that it had run smoother than he'd remembered.

Stella went over to some shelves and pulled a bottle of oil off and tossed it to Dean as she said, "My own blend. And I don't just drain the oil. I make sure to flush the system before I put the new oil in. I think it helps get more of the gunk out."

"Nice," Dean replied, looking at the oil before pulling his wallet out.

"Don't worry about it," Stella said, shaking her head as Dean started to pull out his money. "Consider it… making up for helping my uncle install that iPod jack." As she got back to work, she said, "Can I give you some advice, Dean?"

"Yeah, okay," Dean said with a careless shrug.

"You can have a family and be happy… or you can be a hunter. But really, you can never have both," Stella said, matter-of-factly.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, although he already felt like he was starting to find that out the hard way.

After finishing up her work, Stella straightened up again and looked Dean in the eye. "I know you love Sam. And believe me I love my family, too. But being a hunter is not a life. Once you get trapped in it, you're done because it's all you'll ever be."

"Kind of a grim outlook, isn't it?" Dean asked, although he couldn't exactly say that he disagreed.

Stella crossed her arms and leaned against the front of the car as she looked at Dean. "I've been handling weaponry since I was 7. Went on my first hunt when I was 10. For the longest time it was all I ever knew. Career Day at school sucked because I knew what I would end up doing when I grew up. It's not a choice in my family, Dean. My family has been hunters for centuries."

"You got out when your brother died," Dean argued. "That's got to count for something."

But Stella didn't agree. "For the first few weeks, everyone was cool with it. Mom figured I needed to deal with Tommy's death. Dad said I just needed a break to get my head back in the game. Kyle and Jeff said that I should start taking the family business more seriously. That I should use the down time to train more. Everyone figured it was just temporary." Lowering the hood on the station wagon, she finished up the paperwork on the car and printed out an invoice, tagging it with the customer's name before heading down to the next vehicle—a pick-up truck with an alignment problem on the struts.

"So you just walked away," Dean prompted as he followed Stella over to the other car.

"I'd had enough," Stella stated, simply. "I hated what being a hunter made me. No friendships… no relationships. I felt like I was… tied down by my family and… and until Tommy died I couldn't break away from them."

"Yeah," Dean muttered, distantly. "I know the feeling."

Stella nodded, knowing that Dean did truly understand. Once the truck was jacked up so that she could see the underneath clearly, she said, "That's why I'm telling you: Get out now. And once you do, don't let anyone pull you back in."


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTES: On the show 'Supernatural' something always bugged me about The Colt. Why just one super-powerful gun? If you've got that kind of skill and mystical know-how why just make one gun? So I addressed that.

Also, after all the episodes I've watched Bobby's rant in episode 4 of this season "Weekend at Bobby's" is a perfect expression of how much Bobby does and how little credit he gets for it. So I tried to do the scene justice.

Chapter 7

* * *

Just like boy bands, internet pop-up ads, and those Empire Floor commercials, there was only so much bitching and whining you could take before you completely snapped.

Bobby understood that the Winchester family had issues. God, the number of times he'd heard John griping about one thing or another… And while Sam wasn't as bad, Dean could bitch circles around his old man, especially now when he was hung up on whatever was wrong with his brother.

But there was a time to go along with it and a time to draw the line. When Dean accused Bobby of being selfish, that was the moment he'd had enough. "Where's your brother?" Bobby asked, trying to hold his patience until he had Dean _and_ Sam on the line.

"Outside, why?" Dean asked, sounding puzzled.

"Get him," Bobby replied, not bothering to keep the snap out of his voice. After a moment, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and waited until Dean came back on the line.

"Okay, I've got Sam, Bobby," Dean said, still sounding both confused and put out.

"Put me on speaker," Bobby ordered, throwing politeness out the window. Once Dean reported he'd done so, Bobby poured himself a generous shot of whiskey and prepared to do something that he'd secretly wanted to do for years: let the Winchester brothers have it with both barrels. "Sam, Dean… I love you like my own. I do. But sometimes…." Downing his drink in one go, Bobby let loose. "Sometimes, you two are the _whiniest_, most self-absorbed sons of bitches I ever met!" All the times he'd helped them and never received so much as a 'thanks, Bobby', ran through his mind as he got going on the rant.

"_I'm_ selfish? _Me_?" Bobby went on. He was on a roll now and there would be no stopping and no interruptions until he was good and ready. "I do everything for you. _Everything_! You need some lore scrounged up? You need your asses pulled out of the fire? You need someone to bitch to about _each other_? You call me and I come through _every damn time_! And what do I get for it? Jack, with a side of _squat_!"

As he expected, Dean tried to reply but this time, Bobby was having none of it. He didn't want to hear the excuses, the 'oh, sure, we get it, sorry' lame-ass crap. "Do I _sound_ like I'm done?" Forcing himself to calm down before he had a coronary, he gave a deep, exasperated sigh. "Now, look… I know you've got _issues_. God knows, I know. But I got a news flash for you: Y_ou ain't the center of the universe_! Now it may have slipped your mind that Crowley owns my soul and the meter is running! And I will be damned if I'm going to sit around and-and be _damned_! So how about the two of you _sack up_ and help _me for once_?"

There was a pause and then Sam replied, "Bobby, all you gotta do is ask."

Dean chimed in as well. "Anything you need, we're there."

"You two just don't get it, do you?" Bobby went on as he poured himself another drink. "When was the last time either of you _volunteered_ to help me with something? Do you have _any_ idea how much I bust my ass for you and all the other hunters out there every damn day? Playing fed, looking stuff up, making sure whatever piece of crap you're driving stays running? I'm not just at _your_ beck and call, you know!" When he heard his call waiting beep, Bobby suppressed another outburst and grumbled. "Hold on a minute. Do NOT hang up, or I swear to God…!"

"We'll be here, Bobby," Dean said quickly.

Switching to the other call, Bobby snapped, "What?"

"Yikes," came the voice of Stella Monroe. "Uh, I found that gearshift you were looking for. Just calling to let you know."

"Thanks," Bobby replied with a sigh. "Just send it out as soon as you can."

There was a sympathetic smile in Stella's voice as she said, "Already over-nighted it to you. Later, Bobby."

Going back to Sam and Dean, Bobby kept it brief and told them to get a flight out to Scotland before hanging up. After taking a few moments to regain his composure, he picked up the phone again and dialed another number.

* * *

"Where are you two going?" Kelly asked as she ran into Sam and Dean at the airport. She'd received a call from Bobby less than two hours ago telling her to get over to Scotland.

"Scotland," Sam replied, frowning slightly as he eyed Kelly.

"Same here," Kelly said with a nod. After a second, she asked, "Crowley?"

"Wait, how do you know about him?" Dean asked, grateful for any distraction from the upcoming 9-hour plane ride. Sure, Stella had given them the money for first-class seating but that didn't change the fact that it was still 9 hours on a plane. 9 long hours where anything could happen.

Kelly lowered her voice as she replied, "Crowley's the demon who held my mom's contract." Before she could go into detail, they called the flight she was on—the same flight as Sam and Dean—and she headed for the gate after shouldering her overnight bag—an oversized duffel—and palming two small pieces of paper to Dean and Sam. When she got to the gate, she was stopped at the metal detectors and before they could ask to search her bag, she withdrew the weapon carry permit her father had given her.

After heading through, she glanced over her shoulder, a small smile on her face as she saw the brothers give their permits to security. When she'd told her father about the trip and what she'd hoped to accomplish, Gibbs hadn't liked the plan one damn bit. But he could see that Kelly was adamant about it and he'd made sure that she had a permit for whatever weaponry she decided to take along.

Once seated with the Winchesters in first class, Kelly looked over at Dean who looked like he was going to lose his lunch any second. "Relax, okay?"

"Relax?" Dean said, looking around the cabin of the plane. "You expect me to relax?"

"Ugh, here," Kelly said, rolling her eyes as she dug into her bag and pulled out her iPod and earbuds. "Movies, TV, music. Knock yourself out."

While Dean reviewed the listings on the player—he was surprised that Kelly actually had fairly good taste on some things—Sam turned to Kelly to talk. "So what's your beef with Crowley?"

Keeping her voice as quiet as possible even though first class wasn't all that crowded, she replied, "When I was 8, I was in a car accident with my mom. I was in a coma for 3 months. Mom made a deal with Crowley to save me."

Sam nodded, understanding how Kelly felt. "That's why you became a hunter?"

Kelly nodded, leaning back in her seat and hiding a smile as she saw Sam trying to get comfortable in his seat. As roomy at first class was, apparently Sam was still just a bit too tall for the seats. "Mom made me promise that if I ever found Crowley to put a bullet in him."

As much as he admired the mission, Sam replied, "You know regular bullets won't work on crossroads demons, right? I mean, even silver bullets are hit or miss."

"Don't worry," Kelly muttered, closing her eyes. "I've got it covered."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The iPod helped, but halfway through the flight, Dean was starting to go crazy as all his fears about flying started to drown out what he was listening to. Yanking the earbuds out of his ears, he looked at Sam and then over at Kelly who was apparently sound asleep, her head resting against the window. "How can she sleep at a time like this?" Dean asked, secretly envious.

"Turbulance is comforting," Sam replied, repeating what Kelly had told him before she nodded off.

Dean's wide-eyed gaze flicked over to Kelly before turning to the front of the plane. "She's insane."

"Hey, calm down," Sam said, frowning at Dean.

"I swear to God, the next person who tells me to calm down…!" Dean said, not paying attention to the fact that he was talking louder than he should have. But before he could say anything else, the stress he'd been feeling caught up with his stomach and he grabbed the air sickness bag tucked in the pocket of the seat in front of him just as his digestive system revolted. "God, I hate flying," Dean muttered as he threw up again.

* * *

Once in Scotland, Sam had looked up exactly where they were heading while Dean and Kelly headed for a local pub—Kelly for something to eat, Dean for a drink to help settle his stomach. Sitting at a table in the corner of the pub, Dean sipped his beer and felt his stomach turn a bit as Kelly dug into a thick, juicy burger. "Okay, how could you sleep through that plane ride?"

Kelly finished chewing as she wiped her hands off on the napkin by her plate. "I was actually on a carrier plane once when I was a baby. According to Mom, as long as we were in turbulence I slept like a log. Smooth flying, I cried."

"You are crazy, you know that?" Dean said, taking another swig of his beer.

"So I've been told," Kelly replied, going back to her burger. "So what did you and Sam do to piss Bobby off?"

Dean sighed as he fiddled with his glass. "You know, ever since Sam and me were kids, Bobby's always been like a second father. We never hesitate to ask him for anything. And we take him for granted." Leaning back in his chair he gestured to Kelly. "But, you know, what am I talking to you about this for?"

Kelly's eyes widened at that and she set her burger down, wiping her hands again. Leaning forward, she said, "You think my life's been easier? Or do you mean that I don't take Bobby for granted like you?"

"Hey," Dean snapped, angrily. "You had a life with your mother for 18 years. Your dad's still alive. You still have a home. Me and Sam, all we ever had was each other. That was our only constant when we were kids."

"Every time my father left when I was a kid I wondered if he'd ever come home!" Kelly snapped back. "My mother had nightmares sometimes of him coming home in a body bag!" Lowering her voice, she glared at Dean. "And before you start in on how I had a great life with my mom, let me tell you something. My last memory of my mother was watching her getting her guts ripped out by a hellhound right after she made me promise to hunt down the demon she made the deal with."

Dean thought about that for a moment before he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just saying…" Putting his hands up in truce, he shrugged. "You know what? Just forget about it."

"Fine by me," Kelly agreed, finishing her lunch as Sam came up to the table holding a map.

Once Sam was sitting next to Kelly, he said, "If we head out now we can make the castle by tomorrow evening. There's an inn couple miles away from there."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean said, finishing his beer.

Once in their rental car, Dean looked at Kelly in the rearview mirror and asked, "So your dad just gave you a weapon carry permit?"

Kelly smiled at that. "Federal agents are allowed to have firearms on planes. When I told Dad about going to Scotland to finish things with Crowley, he put a rush on a permit for me. Then he figured the two of you would also have guns so he made sure that you could get 'em on the plane."

"Well, we'll make sure to thank him before we head out," Sam promised, still thinking about Bobby's rant earlier.

"So how are you planning on killing Crowley anyway?" Dean wanted to know.

Digging into her bag, Kelly replied, "I take you two heard the legend about Samuel Colt making a revolver for a hunter back in 1835?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, warily. He knew where the Colt was and wondered where she was going with the story.

"Well, back then the story spread," Kelly went on, pulling the rifle case from the bottom of the bag. "Some years later, Colt started redesigning the original gun and enhancing the charms and killing power of the first revolver." She handed the case up to Sam who was in the passenger seat and watched as he opened it.

"Wait, this…" Sam turned to look at Kelly. "This is a Winchester rifle."

"Appropriate, huh?" Kelly replied. "None of Colt's other guns were located. But there were a few hunters who worked for the Winchester Repeating Arms Company and when they found Colt's notes, they grouped together to create a gun to kill any demon alive but with a longer range."

Dean frowned and quick looked over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the road. Boy, he hated driving in the UK. "So how did _you_ end up with it?"

"Bobby helped me track it down last year," she said, simply.

"Okay," Sam said, still a bit dubious about the whole thing. "Well, Dean and I are pretty good shots close up. But this is more of a long range thing."

"Hey, killing Crowley is my job," Kelly insisted. "And don't worry. Dad had me shooting a rifle when I was in 4th grade."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks at that. It was one thing to be raised as a hunter where learning how to shoot was a necessary life skill. But teaching a kid for the hell of it? Dean just shook his head. That was one of the reasons he'd been so hung up when Ben had been in the guns in the garage. Kids should be allowed to be kids. They shouldn't have to worry about what was out there until they had to.

* * *

The sky was overcast as Kelly crouched in the bushes roughly 600 yards away from Crowley's—or rather Fergus McLeod's—grave. She wished she had better light but as long as it didn't take too long for Crowley to get there she'd be fine. If only she'd thought to pack a night-vision scope, though…

xxxxx

When Crowley did finally show, Dean flicked his lighter and when the flame came up, he smiled as he held it over the bones that they'd sprayed with lighter fluid. "You know, Crowley, I'm still in the mood for barbeque. How about you?"

Crowley's smile was smug as he looked from Sam to Dean. "Oh, I wouldn't recommend that," he said, smoothly.

Dean smirked and asked, "Oh, yeah? Why's that? What's a punk-ass crossroads demon like you gonna do if I light your ass on fire?"

Crowley's smile was indulgent as he replied, "I _was_ a punk-ass crossroads demon. Then Sam here proved that Hell needed better management. Now… I'm not just king of the crossroads. I'm King of Hell, too. And trust me, Sam's little stint down there? Pure entertainment. I miss it, really. So before you'd actually be able to torch my bones, I could send Sam back downstairs, locked up for eternity with Michael and Lucifer."

"You're bluffing," Sam said, quietly, although he knew deep down that Crowley was telling the truth.

"Oh, you want to add more incentive?" Crowley asked, clearly amused by the situation. "Fine, then. Not only will Sam die, but old Grandpa Campbell as well. Along with all the other hunters who came back from the dead."

"Whoa, whoa, wait…" Dean said, closing his lighter. He was pretty sure the now called 'King of Hell' wouldn't believe him if he accidently dropped the lighter. "Cass said they were being offered a choice. So, what? This is all one big crossroads deal to you? Bring them back and then in 10 years collect them again?"

Crowley walked around closer to his bones as he said, "Actually, Sam here hit it on the head. You see, all hunters are resources for information on a little real estate venture I'm pursuing. Planning on expanding my territory, you could say." After gathering his remains in the satchel he'd brought along, he straightened up. "Nice seeing you boys again. Stay in touch."

xxxxx

In the bushes, Kelly lined up her shot just as Crowley turned in her direction. He'd just raised a hand, looking as if he were going to snap his fingers when she pulled the trigger.


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know this is a short chapter but there were just a couple things I wanted to hit before moving the story along.

Next chapter: Samuel shows up and Stella's family has a ghost problem.

Chapter 8

* * *

Lying underneath a pick-up truck, Stella didn't hear Sam come into the garage and when he said her name she jumped, smacking her head against the muffler. Cursing loudly, she kicked as hard as she could at Sam's leg before sliding out from underneath. "Serves you right," she snapped, angrily as she went to the pop machine and grabbed two drinks, tossing one to Sam who was rubbing his shin. Holding her own drink to her forehead, she glared at her boyfriend. "You know, I'm surprised I'm still conscious. You, your brother, your friend, Castiel—you all seem to enjoy scaring the crap out of me and making me hit my head. I'm going to end up with brain damage, I swear to God." Leaning against the truck she sighed as she popped the top of her soda. "So how'd it go with Crowley?"

"He's dead," Sam replied, shrugging as he walked around the car and leaned on the hood. Chugging down his own pop in one go.

"Well, one less demon's a good thing, right?" Stella asked as she looked at Sam. When he didn't look at her, she set her drink down on the hood of the truck and crossed her arms impatiently. "Look, Sam, I really like—Screw it. I love you." When Sam finally turned to face her, Stella went on. "I know you've got issues—Hell, I've got plenty of my own, I'm not going to lie. But I've never felt this way about anyone before."

"I have," Sam replied, simply. When Stella seemed to be waiting patiently for him to continue he went on. "7 years ago I had a girlfriend, Jessica. I was crazy about her. I loved her. And she was murdered by a demon."

Stella's gaze softened a bit as she saw the storm of emotion in his eyes. "If this is the break-up speech, how about we skip it? I mean, if you're going to give me the 'she was the only one I'll ever love' line—"

"I don't want to break up," Sam assured Stella as he pulled her close and into a deep, lingering kiss. As Stella wrapped her arms around him, he wanted more than anything to stay with her. When Sam pulled away, he smiled as he saw the content, happy look on her face. "I love you, Stella."

"Good." Stella kissed Sam again and when he started to pull away again, she kept a gentle hold on his hand. "Hey, you're still going to stick around for a little while, right?"

Sam grinned at her and after pulling his hand from Stella's, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box and he got down on one knee. "More than a little while," he said, opening the box and taking Stella's hand. "I hope."

Stella was completely speechless as she stared at the silver and diamond ring. And even though her hands were covered with oil, dirt, and grime, Sam slid the ring onto the ring finger of her left hand.

"Stella, I do love you," Sam said, honestly as he stared into her beautiful green eyes which were now glistening slightly. "And with all of the stupid things I've done in my life, the times I've screwed up so bad, that… But when I'm with you I kinda start to wonder if maybe there really is such a thing as redemption. I mean I must have done something right to deserve someone like you." Taking both Stella's hands in his, Sam said, "Marry me, Stella."

As tears started to fall down her cheeks, Stella found herself too choked up to say anything and she just nodded. Sniffing deeply as Sam started to break into a wide grin, she finally found her voice. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Sam."

Sam stood up and grabbed Stella around the waist, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around once as she threw her arms around his neck. When he set her back down, they shared yet another long, passionate kiss.

Watching Sam from the gas station as he filled the gas tank on the Impala, Dean grinned as he saw Stella kiss his brother. Sam's happiness was evident even from across the street and Dean was happy for him. "That's my boy," Dean said to himself as he watched the couple head across the street to the diner.

Kneeling before her mother's grave in Rock Creek Cemetery, Kelly lay the bouquet of flowers down next to the headstone. "Eight years ago you told me that you saved my life by making a deal with a demon. You said that you were given 10 years before paying up." Kelly didn't even bother to wipe away the tears in her eyes as she spoke. "You made the best of those years. You were like my best friend and sometimes I think that it was during those ten years that you and Dad were happiest. But I don't think I really appreciated you until you were gone, Mom. I didn't get why you were trying so hard."

After wiping her eyes and taking a breath, Kelly went on. "That night, before you died, you made me make you a promise: that I would find the demon you made that deal with and kill him. I did it, Mom. Went all the way to Scotland but I found him and put a bullet in his head." After a few moments, Kelly started to feel herself getting choked up again as the events of the past few days started to catch up with her. At first she'd had the feeling of numbness and there was some degree of closure, but there was something that just didn't feel right.

"I know if you were here you'd probably tell me its over. I can stop hunting," Kelly said, quietly, tears streaming down her face. "And I want to. I really, really do, but… It's like when I was little and you wanted Dad to leave the Marines. What I do is important, Mom. I save lives and that…" Wiping her tears again she sniffed before finishing, "That helps me feel better about not being able to save you. I miss you, Mom. Every damn day. And I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."

As Kelly stood up, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see her father and Dean coming up to her. Sticking her hands in her pockets after wiping her eyes, she turned back to the headstone. "I'm not quitting, Dad."

"I know," Gibbs replied, as he, too, set a flower bouquet next to Shannon's headstone. When he faced his daughter, he waited until her blue eyes met his. "I know you're not going to stop being a hunter because you're more like me than your mother. Kelly, I love you. And I want you to do what you think is right."

"Besides, I could use a new partner," Dean interjected. When Kelly looked a bit puzzled, he grinned. "Sam's getting married. Hasn't decided if he's going to settle down or stick with the job but he's definitely staying here for a while."

Kelly managed a half smile as she looked at her father. "You're not trying to fix me up with Dean, are you?"

Dean studied Kelly for a while. After getting back to DC, he'd called Lisa and while she hadn't exactly been surprised when he broke up with her, she had sounded disappointed that he hadn't wanted to stick it out. But for Dean it wasn't about toughing it out or distance and time apart. It was because no matter what he told her or how he tried to explain Lisa would never truly understand the world he lived in. Kelly understood because she lived in the same world. She knew the dangers and accepted the sacrifices of the job.

"I'm not trying to do anything, Kelly," Gibbs assured her, his expression deadpan. "Dean wanted to come with and make sure you were alright."

Raising an eyebrow as she eyed the younger man, Kelly almost smiled as she asked, "You're checking up on me?"

"Problem with that?" Dean asked, giving her his most charming grin.

No," Kelly replied, giving Dean a matching smile along with a devilish lift of the eyebrows. As she started to walk back to her car, she noticed Dean following her. "But if you're going to be hunting with me you better not slow me down, though."

"Wait, me slow you down?" Dean said, with a laugh. "Please. I've been at this since I was 12."

"Dad had me training to be a sniper since I was 5," Kelly countered.

"Peas?" Dean wondered.

"Snowballs," Kelly replied.

Gibbs laughed as he watched the two walking away. As much as Kelly was like him, Dean reminded him of Shannon. Both were very tied to their families and both always tried to do the right thing even when it meant the greatest of sacrifices. As his smile diminished, he knew it was possible that Dean and Kelly might not make it as a couple but as hunting partners they were probably almost perfectly suited. Both were driven and they had the same 'I'm the boss' attitude.

Turning to Shannon's headstone, Gibbs knelt down and let out a long sigh. He missed her more and more every day. She'd been the one to keep him grounded, to be a calming presence when he could feel his life spiraling out of control. The last few years he'd had with her had been the best of their entire marriage and when Shannon had died it had been worse than just losing the love of his life. It had been like a part of his soul had been violently torn out of him.

It was a wound that had never fully healed but the fact that Kelly was alive had helped. But when she'd told him about the truth of the night of Shannon's death, Gibbs had felt his world being torn apart once again.

Kelly was right, of course. Gibbs knew that what she did was important and that she probably saved lives more than he'd had in the Marines. Even though he'd lost her for a year—without a doubt one of the worst times of his entire life if not _the_ worst—she'd come back again and while Gibbs had been hoping his little girl would settle down and get married and have kids, he knew that wasn't who Kelly was.

"We did alright with her, Shannon," Gibbs said, quietly. "I know you'd be proud of her." Not sure of what else to say, Gibbs stood up and after one last look at his wife's grave, he turned and headed back towards his car.


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Since I started doing the running gag of Stella smacking her head on a car when someone sneaks up on her I figured I might as well keep it going with Samuel.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Family bonding for Samuel and Dean and family squabbles for the Monroes.

Next chapter: Stella's grandfather shows up and is not only in a chatty mood, but also spills the beans on demon and hunter activity in DC.

Chapter 9

* * *

Samuel Campbell had known of the Monroe family for years. In fact, truth be told, the Monroes were some of the few hunters he actually liked. But the idea that Sam was going to marry Jack Monroe's oldest daughter seemed unsettling for some reason.

Getting to Washington, DC, Samuel felt a bit uneasy. The place was a twisted hive of demons trying too hard to act like humans and hunters who were drawn to this area for that exact reason. Pulling into the Monroe Auto Shop, Samuel got out of his car and walked into the repair bay. "Hello?" he called, looking for anyone around. "Anyone home?"

There was a metallic thud followed by a curse and a young woman came out from under an old beat-up SUV. "I swear to God! What is wrong with you people? Haven't you ever heard of ringing the damn buzzer?" She gave Samuel a glare as she straightened up, rubbing her head, and added, "So what is it with you damn Winchesters and trying to give me a damn concussion?"

Samuel gave Stella a look and said, "Try the other side of the family tree."

Stella gave him a knowing look as she grabbed a towel off the SUV's hood and wiped her hands off. "Right. Campbell, right?"

"Samuel," he said, holding out a hand. When she shook it, he said, "So you're Stella?"

"Yep," Stella replied, going over to the desk and grabbing the car's paperwork. After making a note, she turned back to Samuel. "Hungry? Whole family's over at the diner."

Samuel raised an eyebrow at that and asked, "Family meeting?"

Stella shook her head and headed for the door. "I wish. Try yearly eviction."

xx

In the diner, Heather had set up two long tables together in the back and was starting to bring out dinners when Stella and Samuel came in the door. "Stella. Have a seat. I'll be there in a second, honey."

"Take your time, Mom," Stella replied, grabbing a cookie from a tray in the dessert case. Going over to the table, she gestured to Samuel. "Guys, Samuel Campbell-Dean and Sam's grandfather." Indicating the table, she said, "My Dad, Jackson; my brothers, Jeff and Kyle; My sister, Laura; and my uncle Jonathan. The others are Kelly Gibbs, Ziva David, and Ellen and Jo Harvelle. All of them are hunters."

"Uh-huh," Samuel said, curiously. "So what's with the get-together?"

"Haunting at the lodge," Jack replied as Samuel sat down next to Sam and Dean and Stella sat next to her brothers. "Every year my father's ghost starts acting up. We've been trying for years to figure out what's up but nothing works. Salted and burned his bones after the first time. Year after we burned every thing he ever owned. Couple years ago he started throwing people out of the house."

"That's when you started holing up here?" Samuel concluded as Stella's mother came up.

"Here and at the auto shop. Or Laura's apartment," Heather replied. "What can I get ya, sugar?"

Samuel looked uneasy at the woman's nickname but he just said, "Uh, burger and fries. Coffee, black."

"Club sandwich and onion rings. Coffee, black with sugar," Stella added. "Thanks, Mom." Reaching across the table, she stole a few French fries off of Sam's plate. "So what's the living arrangements this time?" Looking at her siblings, she added, "Because the four of us are _not_ sharing a bed again. That was just ugly the last time." Pointing an threatening finger at Kyle, she added, "And if you ever share those pictures again I will road-haul you from the bumper of my Mustang."

"Hey, that wasn't as bad as Laura practically shoving her foot in my mouth in her sleep," Jeff countered.

"Yeah, and you were sucking on my toes, and moaning your girlfriend's name," Laura snapped.

"Hey, Tommy was the one who took the picture," Kyle said, digging into his burger.

"Thank God he's not here this time," Heather said, bringing up Samuel and Stella's plates.

"Heather," Jack said, wearily.

"You may not like it, Jackson," Heather replied, a hand on her hip. "But yes. I am happy our son is at college fulfilling his dreams, living his life."

"What's wrong with being a hunter?" Jack asked, looking at his wife. "You save lives, kill evil crap…"

"It's not who he is and you know it," Heather snapped. Glancing at the others, she huffed and left the diner, her husband right behind her.

"Welcome to the family," Jonathan said, smiling at Samuel.

Samuel gave the other man a nod as he looked at the rest of the Monroe family. There had been quite a few times he and Deanna had considered having more children after Mary was born. But looking at Jeff, Kyle, Laura, and Stella, Samuel wondered if this is what would have happened. Looking for a distraction from his thoughts, he looked at Kelly who was eying Dean in a way that reminded him of the way Mary used to look at John Winchester. "So, are your family hunters, too?" he asked, her, casually.

Kelly choked on a sip of her soda and when she stopped, she started laughing. "Uh, no. No, my parents are definitely _not_ hunters. Mom… Mom died when I was 18 and Dad's a federal agent."

That made Samuel blink in surprise and raising an eyebrow in curiosity, he asked, "What agency? Don't tell me he's FBI."

"NCIS," Ziva and Kelly said together. "I work with Kelly's father," Ziva added at Samuel's look. "My mother was also a hunter, in case you were wondering."

Eating in silence, Samuel felt a bit overloaded sitting in this diner, trying to make small talk with everyone like he was at some sort of hunters' convention. "I need some air," he muttered, getting up and heading for the door. Outside, he leaned against the cement wall, lost in his thoughts. The world was so complicated now.

"Kinda overwhelming, isn't it?" Dean said, coming outside and joining his grandfather. "You're part of you own little unit, think you know what's going on… Then you really start reaching out to the others who live in this life and you find that… you really don't know as much as you think."

Samuel gave Dean a half-hearted smile and nodded. "I look at Stella and her family and I wonder if that's what could have happened to Deanna and me. Maybe Mary wouldn't have been an only child."

"It's living in the past Samuel," Dean replied, shaking his head at the thought. "And I get it now. I do."

"Dean," Samuel interjected.

"No, I mean it," Dean said, cutting him off. "I've wanted a normal life more than anything in the world. Anything. And do you know why? Because I still remember. I can still remember sitting at the kitchen table in Lawrence, Kansas eating PB&J with the crusts cut off and a glass of milk and Mom asking me if I wanted a piece of pie." Taking a breath and trying to reign in the hot bubble of emotion deep inside, Dean didn't say anything for a moment. "But that's gone now. Gone because now I know what's out there. And as long as I know I can never go back to a regular apple pie life. And even if I could just wipe the slate clean I know that one way or another I'm going to get sucked right back into it."

Not sure of what to say, Samuel was quiet for a while before saying, "I kinda felt like I was looking back in time in there."

"How's that?" Dean asked, looking a bit puzzled.

Samuel turned to Dean, a smile on his face. "The way Kelly was looking at you in there. I remember Mary looking at your father the same way."

"No way," Dean laughed, shaking his head. "No, she's…" But he couldn't help the smile on his face as he said, "It's not like that."

Turning to look at his grandson, Samuel gave him a smile. "Okay. Whatever you say, Dean." After a pause his expression grew pensive and he said, "Sometimes I wish you had that normal, apple pie life. I wish I did, too, sometimes."

"You?" Dean asked, surprised by the confession. "How come?"

The older man shrugged, turning back to look at the semi-busy street. "Watching Mary grow up I always had this… twisting in my gut. I knew that being born in this life wouldn't be easy and there was a part of me that was always uneasy raising Mary to be a hunter."

Dean thought about that for a while before finally asking, "So why do it? Why bring your kids into this?"

"Because I was afraid of what would happen to your mother if she _didn't_ know what was out there," Samuel replied.

xx

Inside the diner, Sam looked at Stella. "So how long does your grandfather usually hang around?"

Stella let out a breath as she thought. "Never longer than a couple days. Four days, tops."

"Four days?" Sam repeated. "So what does he want?"

"Damned if we know," Jeff mumbled around the last bite of his burger. Swallowing, he continued, "Papaw never talks to anyone when he shows up. Just stomps around the house and lately kicks anyone around out of the house."

"Like he's trying to protect you from something?" Sam suggested.

"Like what?" Laura said, scoffing. "First thing Mom and Dad did after buying the land was lay down iron and salt lines. Even used some heavy duty silver wire to put the house itself in the middle of one huge devil's trap."

"Okay," Sam said, thinking again. "Maybe he wants something inside the house."

"Sam, we've thought about all this," Jonathan said, wearily. "I appreciate you thinking. Really. But this has been going on for 6 years now and we're still no closer to figuring out what's going on."

Thinking of anything that could give him a clue, Sam asked, "How's he die?"

"Demon," Kyle said, quietly. When Sam looked at him, he sighed. "Weird one, too. Didn't have black eyes. Or red."

Sam's gut started doing flipflops as he asked, "Were the demon's eyes yellow?"

The Monroe family focused on Sam as Kyle nodded. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"I know the demon who killed him," Sam admitted. "Azazel. He…"

"Laura," Stella said, cutting Sam off quickly. "Research. Take Kyle and Jeff with you."

"I'm sorry, who died and made you boss?" Laura snapped, annoyed.

"Just do it," Stella replied, getting up before pulling Sam to his feet. Without another word she'd led him across the street to the auto shop. Once in her office and the door was closed, she turned to Sam looking nervous. "Okay, tell me you weren't about to just tell my family about your whole demon blood issue."

"I wasn't going to bring up the whole 'drinking demon blood' thing, but yeah," Sam replied, not understanding what the issue was.

"Sam, my dad likes you," Stella said, pointedly. "He has _never_ liked any guy I've dated. Never. If you tell him he's not going to like it which means he probably won't like _you_."

Realizing that it wasn't just his former activities that had set her on edge, Sam waited until Stella wasn't an nervous before asking, "What's going on, Stella?"

Stella sat down behind her desk and sighed as she slumped in the chair. "I've tried, Sam." Looking up at him, she shrugged. "I've tried to walk away. I hate hunting. I may be good at it but I hate it. I love fixing cars." Standing up, she said, "When Bobby Singer got stabbed he called me, asked if I wouldn't mind taking over the salvage yard. I turned him down, spouting a bunch of crap about my family."

Sam gave her a wry smile. "South Dakota's pretty far away from DC." Taking her hand, he asked, "So is that what you want?"

"Yeah," Stella replied, after thinking for a moment. "I mean, I'll still be in the loop which will make my family happy. And you can settle down if you want or hunt locally… or whatever."

"I just want to be with you," Sam replied, pulling Stella to her feet and into his arms. "I don't care where." After they shared a long, sensual kiss, Sam slowly unbuttoned Stella's flannel shirt. "So how long until your family comes looking for you?"

"Don't know," Stella replied, a devilish smile on her face as she started undoing Sam's button-down shirt. "Don't care."


	10. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTES: While I know this chapter is on the shorter side, I had several awesome ideas and I decided to put them all in this story.

Chapter 7

* * *

Dean was startled awake the next morning when someone banged on the roof of the Impala.

Not wanting to take part in the 'who's sleeping where' that had been going on with the Monroes, Dean had opted to simply sleep in his car.

Blinking away sleep, Dean turned to see Kelly Gibbs standing by the rear passenger's side window with a grin on her face.

"Rise and shine!" Kelly said brightly, as she watched Dean sit up and rub the back of his neck.

"I freakin' hate morning people," Dean grumbled as he slowly got out of the car and stretched to ease up the knots formed by sleeping in the Impala all night. When he turned to Kelly he noticed that her hair was in a braid and she wore blue slacks and a green long-sleeved shirt. "Nice outfit."

"Come on, Dean. Get dressed," Kelly said, still a bit too cheerful for Dean this early in the morning. "Got a case."

Dean started to grab his suit from the bag of clothes in the trunk but stopped when he saw Kelly leaning against the Impala staring at him. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," Kelly replied, shaking her head. "Go right ahead."

Moving to the other side of the car, Dean felt unusually self-conscious as he changed clothes. Once he'd laced up his shoes, he looked up just as Kelly tossed a badge at him. "What's this?" Dean asked, looking a bit confused.

"Your new ID," Kelly replied, leaning against the car and studying her new partner.

"I've already got FBI IDs," Dean protested, tossing the badge back at her.

Kelly laughed and shook her head. "Dean, you have got a lot to learn." When Dean shot her a look, she sighed. "You go into an NCIS crime scene with FBI identification and I promise you will set off a first-class pissing match and you will not like what happens after." Tossing the badge back at Dean, she got into the Impala's passenger seat and waited until Dean finally got in the car. "This is roomy," she said, appraisingly. Looking in the backseat, she added, "I can imagine you could fit two people back there quite easily."

Dean didn't say anything as he did his seatbelt and started the car. "So where are we going?"

"Langley Park," Kelly replied, putting on her own seatbelt. "Dead Marine found this morning by some joggers." As Dean headed down the road, she filled him in on what she'd been told by her father. "Guy was a bloody mess. Didn't say whether the heart was intact, though."

"Well, it's not a full moon so likely it's not a werewolf," Dean concluded. "Anything else?"

Kelly shrugged. "Dad didn't go too far into details. Oh, and before I forget…" Digging into her bag and pulled out a SIG Sauer P226 DAK handgun and two extra clips. Handing the gun to Dean she said, "Standard NCIS issue. Gun's registered to me."

"So what are you using?" Dean asked, not sure if he liked this. He liked using his own gun. He knew how the sights lines up on it and he knew how it felt in his hand. But on the flipside, he was in Washington, DC and any real fed would probably know by the gun he used whether he was legit or not.

"If I'm playing federal agent I go with the SIG," Kelly replied. "Personally, my favorite is Beretta cx-4 9mm." Looking over at Dean, she asked, "What about you? What's your weapon of choice?"

"Favorite gun is a nickel-plated Colt 1911 A1 .45 caliber semi-automatic," Dean said, thinking of the weapon he had tucked in the waistband of his pants. "Fires great, easy to lock and load, and looks great, too."

"Very nice," Kelly agreed with a smile.

xxxxx

When they got to the crime scene, Kelly grabbed her gear and got out of the car just as Dean opened his badge and looked at the name. "Whoa, whoa," he said, looking disgusted. "Jensen Ackles?" Turning to look at Kelly, he added, "Seriously?"

Kelly rolled her eyes as Dean got out of the car. "Look, Abby Scuito—NCIS's forensic scientist—made the ID and _she's_ the one who picked the name, okay?"

"Do I look like a 'Jenson' to you?" Dean said, still not believing that he was stuck with such a goofy name.

"Actually, you look like a good roll and tumble in the backseat of your car here," Kelly replied with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. When Dean glared at her, she smiled. "Hey, that name was my idea. Abby wanted to go with 'Jared Padalecki'."

"Let's just go," Dean grumbled, following Kelly to where NCIS was stationed around a young man lying on his back by some bushes.

Kelly dropped her gear by a tree and fished out a pair of gloves and tossed a larger pair to Dean. When a couple of the metro cops looked at her, she pulled out her badge and flipped it open. "Special Agent Kelly Gibbs." Pointing to Dean as she flashed the NCIS shield, she added, "My partner, Special Agent Jensen Ackles."

Once he'd done the badge-flashing, Dean pulled on the latex gloves and went over to the body.

"What do we got, Ducky?" Kelly asked, crouching down next to the medical examiner.

"Ahh, Kelly," Ducky said, giving her a quick glance before turning to the body. "Meet Private First Class Kevin Gibson. Poor boy was apparently mauled by something or other." Looking at Kelly and then at Dean who had joined them by the body, Ducky added, quietly, "I presume that's why Jethro called the two of you in on this?"

"Yeah," Kelly replied, distracted by something she saw in the chest cavity. Making sure no one was looking except for Ducky, she pulled out some sort of claw.

"What the hell has a claw like that?" Dean asked, looking at it. It wasn't like any kind of fang or claw he'd ever seen before.

"No way," Kelly said, quietly, as she studied it. Catching the looks from Ducky and Dean she started to reply but stopped when she saw Tony and Ziva coming over. "Later," she whispered before tucking the claw away in her pocket. Standing up, she started looking around the area while Ducky gave Tony and Ziva the preliminaries.

xx

After an hour of searching the surrounding area for EMF, sulfur, hex bags, or anything else out of the ordinary, Dean and Kelly ducked out and headed back to the Impala. Once back on the road, Kelly pulled out the claw they'd found at the crime scene. Dean glanced at the claw while he drove and after a few minutes, asked, "So what is it?"

Kelly shook her head as she held up the claw. "I can tell you what I _think_ it is," she replied. "But it's not good news."

"Okay," Dean said, sounding a bit annoyed. "So what do you _think_ ripped apart that body?"

"There's a monster in Greece that has claws like this," Kelly replied, putting the claw away. "It's called a lamia. Chews the hearts of the victims, chugs the blood."

"And you just happen to know about monsters from Greece?" Dean said, wondering where she'd heard about this thing.

"Oh, something similar popped up about 5 years ago," Kelly said, shrugging. "Bobby sent out a couple of books, hoping they could help identify the thing."

"Okay, so how do we gank it?" Dean wanted to know.

"No clue. Never got that far," Kelly said, shrugging.

"Okay, research time it is," Dean muttered as he headed towards the Monroe Diner.

x

Getting to the resteraunt, Dean and Kelly headed inside and found Sam and Stella sitting together in a booth in a corner of the diner.

"We've got a case?" Sam asked, noticing that Kelly was dressed up a bit nicer than usual and Dean was wearing his suit.

"Body ripped apart," Dean reported. "Kelly thinks it's a lamb—"

"Lamia," Kelly said, sitting down on Sam's side of the booth and looking at the diner menu.

"Never heard of one of those," Stella replied, frowning slightly. "Better call Bobby."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks before looking at Stella and Kelly.

"What?" Stella said, not looking bothered by Kelly sitting with her fiancé. Changing the subject, she said, "Oh, I did some research on my grandfather. Turns out he and a load of other hunters had some sort of gathering or something about 50 years ago."

"Gathering about what?" Dean wanted to know.

"That part's still sketchy," Sam replied as Heather came over.

"What can I get ya'll?" Stella's mother asked, as she came over to the table.

"Chef salad and a chocolate shake," Sam replied.

Stella looked at her mother and shrugged. "Meatloaf sandwich. Extra gravy and a lemonade. Thanks, Mom."

"Bacon cheeseburger with fries and a Mountain Dew, please," Kelly replied, closing the menu and handing it to Heather.

"Fried chicken plate with fries and a black coffee," Dean said, catching the raised eyebrow from Sam.

When Heather had left, Sam turned his attention to his brother. "You okay, Dean?"

"Fine, why?" Dean replied, wondering why Sam was looking at him like he was sick or something.

"Kelly gets a bacon cheeseburger and you're getting chicken?" Sam said, looking bemused. "That doesn't seem off to you?"

"Dude, have you tried the fried chicken here?" Dean said, the mere thought of the crispy chicken skin and juicy, tender meat making his mouth water. "I mean, it's like deep fried crack, man."

"It's all in what Mom calls the 'fry dust' that we coat the chicken pieces in before we fry it," Stella said, knowing what Dean meant. Even after so many years of eating her mother's fried chicken, she never got tired of it.

"Well, whatever it is, it's awesome stuff," Dean said, taking a sip from one of the glasses of water Heather had brought out. Setting his glass down, he added, "So… any idea how we gank this lamia?"


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Sam and Stella have a little hurt/comfort thing going on and Dean and Kelly take out the lamia.

Chapter 11

* * *

While Dean and Kelly headed to her house after lunch to grab a book, Stella eyed Sam warily as he straightened a bit, digging a fist into a spot on his lower back. "You okay?" Stella asked, looking concerned.

"Fine," Sam assured her as he stood up, trying to ignore the knot in his back. Apparently when Crowley yanked him out of Hell, he hadn't bothered to erase all of the physical scars like Castiel had done when he pulled Dean out.

"You're not fine," Stella insisted as she followed her fiancé out of the diner. "First this morning and now—"

"I was fine this morning," Sam replied, defensively. Sure it had taken him a little longer than usual to get going but that was common for him every now and then.

"You were moving like an 80-year-old lady," Stella, said, undeterred. Putting a hand on Sam's arm, she stopped him as he started towards her car. "Hey, come on. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Sam had told Stella about the first time he'd died more than three years ago but he'd never told her about _how_ he'd died. He could still feel the knife cutting into his spine. He even still had the angry looking scar on his back. Ever since, Sam still woke up with back pain now and again. Crappy motel mattresses only made things worse, as did riding around in the Impala so much.

One of the reasons Sam missed driving his own car had been because of the heated seats. True, they didn't cure the back pain but they certainly kept it to a manageable level.

Turning to get in the car again, Sam suddenly pitched forward as his right hip suddenly locked up. Without thinking, he threw both hands out in front of him, nearly screaming when he felt a 'crack' and a sharp pain flaring up in his right wrist—the same one he'd broken running from a zombie more than 4 years ago.

"Sam!" Stella shouted, dropping to her knees next to him.

Sam groaned as he tried to get up but it felt as though he might have strained his back and his wrist was killing him. "Hurts…" he groaned. Part of Sam—a big part—didn't care that he was acting like he was dying. When he was finally lying on his back, he felt someone help him sit up. "Stella?"

"Yep, I'm here," Stella replied, bending down and putting Sam's uninjured arm around her shoulders before hauling her oversized boyfriend to his feet. "Come on," she muttered, helping Sam into the passenger seat of the car.

"I'm fine," Sam said as Stella got into the driver's seat and started up her car. "It's just my wrist. Broke it a while back."

"I swear to God, you're even worse than my brothers," Stella muttered, aggravated as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the hospital. "Anything short of life-threatening and they're saying it's just a scratch. Hell even when it _was_ life-threatening, they just shrugged it off sometimes."

Sam couldn't help but laugh at that as Stella zipped down the street. "Dean's the same way. Won't let anyone know when he's really hurting." After another minute, he said, "I don't know if I'm okay with this."

"You mean going to a hospital or being with a girl strong enough to haul your ass up off the floor?" Stella asked with a smile. After a moment, though, the smile faded and she glanced over at Sam. "Or do you mean actually looking vulnerable with someone other than your brother?"

"All of the above," Sam replied after a long pause. He hated feeling weak but with Dean it was okay because his older brother felt the same way. Both of the Winchesters downplayed injuries until one of them called the other out on it. And even then, the brothers didn't mind leaning on one another as they stumbled into their motel room or—worst case—the local emergency room.

But to Sam, the idea of needing a _girl_ to save his ass—admittedly a really, _really_ hot girl who happened to also be a hunter—was a bit hard to take sometimes. Glancing over at Stella as she turned into the hospital parking lot, Sam thought that if he'd been with Dean when he'd met Stella, then Dean would probably have been the one to hook up with her.

"Hey," Stella said as she started towards the main parking lot. "Do you think you can walk from…?" But after looking at Sam who looked like he was only barely concealing how much pain he was really in, she sighed. "Never mind," she muttered under her breath before pulling up to the emergency room doors.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Walking up to the front door of Kelly's house, Dean was more than surprised when Kelly simply opened the door and walked inside. Looking around, Dean hesitantly walked into the house. "Dean, the place isn't booby trapped," Kelly assured him as they headed upstairs to her bedroom. "'Course, I wouldn't recommend walking barefoot in the basement. But other than that…"

Dean raised an eyebrow at that but when Kelly didn't elaborate he let the subject go for the moment.

In Kelly's bedroom, Dean was almost surprised by the shocking absence of personal items. Everything seemed to be related to hunting, from books on creatures and lore to weaponry of all shapes and sizes including rifles, shotguns and what looked like an actual sword in one corner. But as he looked around more closely, he realized that the personal items were concealed by the books, weapons, amulets, and charms littering almost every inch of the place.

Piles of papers and books on the desk hid photos of Kelly with her father _and_ mother. On the very bottom shelf of her book case, there were some old mystery novels Kelly must have enjoyed reading before her mother died and she'd dove headlong into the realm of the supernatural.

Dean picked up one of the framed photos on the desk and studied it for a moment, a little surprised. Kelly was wearing a beautiful homecoming dress in dark purple and she stood with a guy that looked a little like Sam when he'd been in high school. Glancing in Kelly's direction as she rummaged for something on the other side of the room, Dean found it suddenly hard to believe that Kelly Gibbs had ever truly acted like a girl.

"You gonna help me look for that book or are you just going to stare at my ass all day?" Kelly said over her shoulder as she searched yet another pile of books. Dear God, when had she become such a hoarder? She could remember when it had started with a few books, a couple knives and the 9mm her father had taught her to shoot when she was a kid. Now there was barely any space left in her bedroom except a narrow footpath around the bed and closet.

"It wasn't your ass I was looking at," Dean replied, quietly. When Kelly straightened up and looked at him, he handed her the photo, a smirk on his face as he simply said, "Nice dress."

Kelly chuckled as she blushed looking at the photo for a moment before putting it back on the desk. "Yes, believe it or not, there was a time when I was actually a girl," she said with a smile. Turning back to the task at hand, she finally found the book she'd been looking for and sat on the bed to look up lamias.

"So what did you want to do?" Dean asked, his curiosity starting to get the better of him. Catching Kelly's puzzled look, he clarified. "Back when you were just a girl. What did you want to do when you grew up?"

Kelly laughed out loud, the blush on her face spreading up to her ears. "Oh… let's not go there, okay?"

"Come on," Dean said, coaxingly as he gave her his most charming smile. "You can tell me."

Kelly set the open book down and crossed her arms, preparing herself for jokes. "Alright. When I was in high school I wanted to be… a chef."

Dean didn't laugh at that. As he studied Kelly, picturing her in a professional kitchen, he could totally imagine her chopping, cooking, shouting out orders and directions to the other cooks. "Well, if you handle a knife the way you handle a gun…" he said with a smile.

"What about you?' Kelly asked, grabbing the book she'd been looking for and looking for what it said about lamias.

"What about me what?" Dean asked. Realizing what Kelly had meant, he shrugged. "I don't know. Never really thought about it much. My dad always trained Sam and me to be hunters. I never really thought about alternate careers." Watching Kelly reading over the book, Dean could feel the old, familiar instinct stirring inside him and for once, he wanted to keep it quiet. The idea of sleeping with Kelly—while appealing, certainly—was also potentially far more hazardous to his health than any demon or monster he'd faced before.

"Okay, good news and bad news," Kelly said with a sigh.

"What's the bad news?" Dean asked. Sam always asked for the good news first, but Dean always wanted the bad news first since it was a better way to judge just how 'good' the good news was.

"Bad news, it _is_ a lamia we're dealing with and they're really strong, ugly sons of bitches," Kelly said with a slight grimace as she handed the book to Dean. "Good news is the best way to kill them is a silver knife blessed by a priest and—" She cut off as she looked around the messy room. "Um… I've got one around here. Somewhere," she added, shrugging as she looked a little embarrassed. Standing up she started to rummage through the various weaponry.

"Ever think of cleaning your room?" Dean asked, with a smirk as he started to help Kelly look.

"Some day," Kelly muttered quietly.

"Why don't you just take one of your other knives and get it blessed?" Dean asked, noticing plenty of silver knives lying around.

"Because there's one in particular… Ah! That one, by your foot!" Kelly said, pointing to a sheathed blade poking out from under the bed.

Dean bent down and picked up the knife, pulling it from the leather sheath. It was a K-Bar knife with a short serration on the blade near the bolster. The handle was black and textured and there were initials engraved on the blade on one side. "'E.B.'?" Dean said, looking curious.

"Elizabeth Birnbaum," Kelly said with a smile. "When Ziva found out I was a hunter, she gave me the knife for my birthday. It was her mother's."

Dean nodded, remembering a similar conversation with Jo Harvelle. Sheathing the knife, he handed it to Kelly who had grabbed a bag and was packing a few other items into it. "What's the rest of the gear for? Thought you said the knife would work on this thing."

Taking the knife from Dean and tossing it into the bag, Kelly replied, "It should." Throwing the strap of the bag over her shoulder, she headed out of the room, Dean right on her heels. "Rule #20: Don't always count on 'plan a'."

"Got a rule for everything?" Dean asked.

Kelly felt a slight squirm in the pit of her stomach and she replied, "Everyone needs a code they can live by." Once in the kitchen, she rummaged through the cupboards and pulled out a couple bottles of dried rosemary and dropping them into the bag along with a small mixing bowl.

"So how'd you come up with your code?" Dean asked, interested as he followed Kelly out to the garage where she grabbed a few more items including a small propane torch.

"My dad," Kelly replied, simply as she and Dean headed out to the Impala. After tossing the bag into the backseat, she got into the passenger seat while Dean got behind the wheel. "Although, really it was my mom. She told Dad that she had a rule—never date a lumberjack—and Dad eventually started making his own rules."

Dean wanted to say something about the idea but couldn't think of the right thing to say. Once he and Kelly were heading down the road, he asked, "So where do we find a lamia?"

Kelly let out a breath, grateful for the change of subject. "They like the woods. So I guess we'll start there."

"Yeah, and how many forests and parks in DC?" Dean asked, not liking the idea.

"Too many," Kelly admitted. After a moment, she said, "Okay. Let's try going back to Langley Park first. Maybe this thing leaves a trail or something that we can follow."

"Guess that's better than just sitting around waiting for this thing to attack someone else," Dean replied, turning to head towards the park. After thinking on things for a while, though, he glanced at Kelly but before he could ask her the question that had been on his mind, his phone rang. Answering it, he said, "Yeah. What?"

"Dean, it's Stella."

"Stella?" Dean said, sounding a little confused. "What's going on? You and Sam okay?"

"I'm fine," Stella replied, quickly. "Sam… not so much."

"What happened?" Dean demanded, every terrible scenario running through his mind at triple speed.

"Oh, just a minor crash and burn," Stella said, calmly. "He'll be fine. We're still at the hospital but I'm going to get a room at the Hays-Adams Hotel."

Two of Dean's basic instincts were in conflict at the moment. The first and primary was to go to Sam and make sure his brother was really okay. But glancing over at Kelly again he also knew that he couldn't let her go after this lamia thing alone. If Kelly got hurt or killed, Dean had no doubts that Leroy Jethro Gibbs would NOT be happy. "Listen," Dean said, deciding on compromise. "Kelly and I have something to take care of but we'll meet you at the hospital."

"Dean, just drop me off," Kelly interjected. "I'll scout out the park and call you if I find anything."

"Like hell," Dean snapped, giving her a look. "No way I'm letting you go after this thing alone."

"Dean, just go finish your hunt and then meet me," Stella insisted. "Sam's okay, I promise. Just go do what you need to do."

"Fine," Dean said before hanging up the phone. Looking over at Kelly he said, "Let's go gank a lamia."

Kelly started to respond when Dean stepped on the gas, making the car go even faster.

xxxxxxxx

It took the better part of 4 hours to find where the lamia had gone and after tracking the monster to a nearby church, Dean was about to go in quietly when a loud scream sounded from inside.

Kelly and Dean burst in and stopped dead when they saw what looked like a half woman-half snake looming over a body on the floor, the dead priest's chest ripped open.

The lamia hissed loudly at the two hunters, exposing what looked like snake fangs. When it lunged at Kelly and Dean, they both dove out of the way, rolling away from the lamia which whirled around to try again.

Kelly and Dean looked at each other before noticing where Kelly had dropped the bag in the doorway. "I'll hold it off, you go for the knife!" Dean shouted, keeping a close eye on the lamia's claws and fangs.

"Are you freakin' insane?" Kelly said, her heart pounding. "_I'll_ hold it off, and _you_ go for the knife!"

Dean started to object when Kelly suddenly scrambled to her feet, making a run for the rectory, the lamia hot on her tail. "Kelly!" Grabbing the bag, he dashed after the two, ducking just as Kelly suddenly went flying over his head after being thrown by the lamia which quickly turned to go after Dean who made a run for the door.

Lying on the floor, Kelly groaned as she tried to get to her feet. Her head was pounding and it hurt to breathe a bit. When her phone rang, she was tempted to ignore it, but recognizing the ringtone as the one she'd set for Ducky, she answered it quickly. "Talk fast, Duck!"

"Is this a bad time?" Ducky asked, sounding concerned.

Kelly made a run for the bag and started rummaging frantically. "No. What's going on?"

"I thought you ought to know," Ducky replied, talking a bit faster. "Toxicology from PFC Gibson showed high levels of a hemotoxin in his blood."

"Oh, great," Kelly groaned, grabbing the knife and throwing it to Dean who started trying to stab the lamia.

"Yes, the toxin is very similar to that of the western diamondback rattle snake," Ducky went on. "You know I once had an associate who was bitten by—"

"Kelly!" Dean shouted as he went crashing into a wall, the knife flying out of his hand and out of reach.

"Bye, Ducky," Kelly said, quickly, hanging up the phone and making a mad scramble for her bag, grabbing the salt and rosemary and blending them in the bowl just as Dean joined her.

"This isn't the time to work on spice mixes, Kelly!" Dean shouted, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Plan B!" Kelly shouted back, shoving the propane torch into Dean's hands. "I'll season, you flambé!"

Both of them froze as the Lamia suddenly reared up in front of them, fangs and claws bared.

"This a bad time to tell you that those fangs are poisonous?" Kelly said as she froze for a second.

"Then let's not get bitten!" Dean said, dodging a strike, wincing as he felt the lamia's claws catch him across the shoulder.

"Dean!" Kelly said, panicked. Throwing the salt and rosemary at the monster, she ducked as the lamia tried to cut her with its claws and dropped to the floor as she said, "Now, Dean!"

Dean turned on the torch and when the flames hit the lamia it let out a bloodcurdling scream before being consumed in a fireball.

With the lamia dead, Dean turned off the torch, wincing as he stood, the pain in his shoulder getting worse as the adrenaline rush started to wear off. Going over to Kelly, he was pleased to see that she didn't look like she was too badly hurt. "You alright?"

Kelly started to nod but as she stood, she winced as her ribs throbbed. "Oh, that's going to kill in the morning."

"Alright, come on," Dean said, helping Kelly to her feet. "We'll swing by the hospital. I can check on Sam and you can get those ribs looked at."

Kelly didn't argue as she and Dean grabbed their things and headed for the car. She usually just stopped at NCIS after getting hurt during a hunt or just called Ducky and had him meet her at her house but right now, she just wanted to lie down and take some painkillers.

As he and Kelly headed for the hospital, Dean couldn't help but go over the fight in his head. For it being their first case together, they'd actually done pretty good.

Now if only he could stop fantasizing about having sex with the gorgeous redhead sitting in the passenger seat of his car.

xxxxxxxxxx

Stella found Dean and Kelly sitting on a bed in one of the exam rooms in the ER an hour after they got to the hospital and was relieved that they didn't look too badly hurt. "You guys okay?" Stella asked, looking from Kelly to Dean. The ever so slight bulge under Kelly's shirt around her midsection indicated she'd had her ribs wrapped up and the missing sleeve of Dean's t-shirt exposed the white bandages across his shoulder while his arm was in a sling.

"Just a dislocated shoulder and a couple of busted ribs," Dean replied, shrugging his good shoulder. "No big deal." Looking at Stella, he asked, "How's Sammy?"

"Way too tall," Stella replied with a sarcastic smile. Seeing that Dean wasn't amused, she shook her head. "Sam was having back problems. He tripped and went face down in the parking lot outside the diner. Broke his wrist. Docs said Sam's got some arthritis in his right hip and back. Nothing serious."

"Where is he?" Dean asked, hopping off the exam bed and wincing as the action jostled his arm.

"Sleeping," Stella replied with an amused look. "They're keeping Sam overnight and he's… thoroughly drugged."

Dean couldn't help chuckling at the thought of his brother on painkillers. Even when the aches and pains got _really_ bad, Sam wouldn't take the good stuff unless Dean all but shoved the pills down his throat. Which was probably just as well because on the higher strength meds Sam got extremely loopy. "I think I'll go check in on the Sasquatch anyway," Dean said, heading out of the room.

Stella studied Kelly for a moment, noticing the barely masked pain on the younger woman's face. "Need anything? Painkillers?"

Kelly shook her head as she gingerly slid off the bed. "I've had broken bones before. Both legs, left arm… even a skull fracture when I was in a car accident when I was 8." Wincing as she gently massaged her midsection, she said, "Broken ribs, though… That's just a special pain, right there."

Stella nodded, a reminiscent look on her face. "First time I broke a rib I was sure I was dying." Leading Kelly out of the room, she said, "I doubt we'll tear Dean away from Sam tonight so why don't you and I go grab a bite?"

"Sure," Kelly said, nodding. After a moment, she added, "And maybe stop and get some painkillers after all. God, this kills."

xx

As if sensing his brother's presence, Sam's eye cracked open when Dean entered the room. "Hey, Dean," Sam said, drawing out the words with a big, goofy smile on his face. After a second, however, Sam opened both eyes all the way when he noticed Dean's arm in the sling. "What happened?" Sam asked, concerned. "Are you okay? Was it the lamia?"

"Don't worry about it, Sammy," Dean insisted, pulling a chair over to his brother's bedside. "Son of a bitch cut me up, dislocated my shoulder. Nothing I haven't had before."

Sam nodded slowly and tried to sit up, wincing at the pain in his wrist. Giving up and laying back again, he saw Dean's look and raised his right hand now encased in a white cast. "I broke it again. The docs had to put a pin in my wrist this time."

Dean didn't say anything right away. He could see two looks in his brother's eyes—one was the grown-up 'You're gonna make fun of me, aren't you?' and the other was the little kid 'Can you make it better?'. "Yeah, I hear if you break a bone once it makes it more likely you'll break the same bone again." After a while, Dean leaned forward and grinned as he said, "Arthritis? Seriously, dude?"

"It's not funny, Dean," Sam grumbled. He wasn't sure if he was just working through the haze of the drugs or if they just weren't as effective because he was so freaking big.

"I know it's not, Sasquatch," Dean replied, sympathetically. After a moment, he adjusted Sam's hospital bed so he was sitting up and said, "Guess you need to start taking better care of yourself, huh? No more sitting in front of that computer of yours all day eating burgers and drinking beer."

Sam gave a pained laugh in return. "I hate being so tall."

"Yeah, but what can you do?" Dean replied, leaning back in his chair. After a while, he said, "I'm sorry, Sammy."

"What for?" Sam asked, his brain starting to feel slightly fuzzy again.

"Things are always harder for you," Dean replied. "I should have made sure you took better care of yourself."

"Dean, stop," Sam replied, hazily. Sleep was threatening to overtake him again and before he could finish the half-formed thought in his head, he closed his eyes and quickly fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Dean watched his brother fall asleep and lowered the bed down again before smiling to himself. Scooting back just a bit, Dean kicked off his boots and propped his feet up on the bed. After a few moments to get comfortable, Dean also closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.


End file.
